The Most Important Sacrifices
by Aria Taylor
Summary: Percy Jackson steals. His three-year-old half-sister is sick and only the medicine he steals is keeping her alive. When his parents' money runs out and he gets close to getting caught, he pulls his greatest heist ever: the princess. Annabeth Chase rebels. Her parents drown her in suitors, and she hates every single one. But her latest suitor may be the one...until he kidnaps her.
1. Prologue

**Hi! This is my new story, obviously, so I hope you like it. And to all my followers reading my other stories, I'm sorry for starting another story. I just couldn't help myself. I really like this idea. I will continue Begin Again and Intertwined, though. I promise. **

**This is just the prologue, so it's not real exciting, but there's a ton of foreshadowing in it. I hope it gets you hooked. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO, just this plot. **

Prologue

Third Person's POV

It was the perfect hiding spot. A small log cabin in the middle of the woods, almost a two weeks walk away from the kingdom, a place where no one would go. Three rooms: a bedroom, living room, and a kitchen. A perfect spot to hide away. A perfect spot to hide a princess.

The palace guards had been searching for the princess for a month. The king and queen had almost given up hope of ever finding her, but they never once told the guards to stop. Everyone in the palace was weary and tired, and, as the search continued, so were the kingdom's citizens.

But all of that changed the day one of the many groups of guards searching for the kidnapped princess discovered the cabin.

The door was locked, of course, but that wasn't a problem. The kingdom's top guards knew how to break down a door. The door came down with a heavy thud and a cloud of sawdust. The guards came in one by one, hands on their sword hilts, ready to pull them and take down whatever crazy person had taken their kingdom's jewel on sight.

The room before them was nothing but average, maybe a bit less. It seemed like a place a peasant would live. Wooden furniture sat around the dim room, looking like it had been put together by a teenage boy. The chair wobbled and creaked when a one of the guards touched it. "Definitely a boy," he murmured.

"Spread out," their young, golden-haired captain ordered. "Search everywhere. If you find anything even remotely related to princess, notify me immediately."

The guards went in twos to search the three rooms. The group in the main room pounded on the wood floor, searching for a trap door or hidden compartment that might have any clue to where the princess was. The furniture was torn to bits and pushed aside in the search. The group in the kitchen had about the same amount of luck. They searched through mounds of trash and endured the stink of moldy food to discover nothing but the fact that someone had been there recently.

The two people in the bedroom – a male and female guard – stomped around on the ground like they had in the living room, but they were rewarded with the sound of a hollow area next to the window. The two guards looked at each other and grinned. It might not be where the princess was hidden, but it might be a clue to lead them to where she was.

And they were right. After prying away the wooden floor – which seemed to have been installed better than the rest of the floor – they were met with the soft gold fabric of the princess's many gowns and a brown sack lying on top of it. The female guard picked it up and emptied it out into her gloved hand. Only one thing was in it and when it hit her hand, the girl gasped and dropped it to the ground.

It was a shining, jewel-encrusted tiara.

The male guard called for their captain while his partner slowly picked up the crown. She wondered what this meant. She should have been happy, she supposed, to have found the princess's clothes and crown, but it just filled her with dread. How were they supposed to find her with only a dress and tiara? Unless...unless she was still in the house.

"There has to be another room," she told the captain. "This must be the place she's staying. There must be an attic or-or a basement."

The captain nodded and ordered the rest of the group to start looking for an entrance to a basement. They filed outside and searched through a forest of grass for forever, it seemed. One of the guards, a young male called Mercutio, was thinking of the whereabouts of the princess while he searched. How was she being treated? What state was she in? Was she near death? Was she being treated well, despite being captive? Was she slowly going insane? Before he knew it, his sword, which he was using to cut away the three-foot-tall grass, hit something firm that reverberated through the sword and up his sword arm.

"Hey!" he yelled. "Hey, I think I found it!"

He worked more forcefully now, chopping away the weeds and grass and brushing off dirt. Two wooden trapdoors lay on the ground, locked with a shining silver lock. Mercutio studied it, coming to the conclusion that the princess must be hidden there since the lock seemed brand new.

The other guards joined him and, in less than two minutes, the doors had been smashed in, the lock forgotten about. The six soldiers bolted down the small staircase, their feet sounding like hail and heavy rain on the roof.

The basement was dank, dark and dusty, and smelled of urine and vomit. It was near impossible to see into it at first, compared to the sunlight from above, but the guards' eyes adjusted. Mercutio went to the wall and used a match to light a torch, illuminating the room with hungry light. The guards looked around with curious eyes and slowly, one by one, their mouths dropped open in surprised and horrified gasps.

Lying on the ground, her ragged and torn clothes covered in blood, was their missing princess. And she appeared to be dead.

Their captain smiled. Perfect.

**Review, follow and favorite! Leave flames if you want, I don't really care. Constructive criticism is accepted and praise is definitely accepted!**

**Um, I also leave a verse at the end of all my chapters. So I'll leave you with one that everyone knows but I like anyways.**

**"For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whosoever believe in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters (except Macy) belong to Rick Riordan.**

Chapter One

Percy

"_Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" _

_(Mary Oliver)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The bustling streets made it easier, Percy had to admit. No one would notice a young man dressed in rags making his way swiftly through the crowd. No one would care about his unruly black hair and dirt-streaked face. That was the normal appearance here. He could fade away in the crowd, unnoticed and unimportant.

Percy chuckled to himself. If only they knew.

He could see the hospital standing before him, maybe a block away from where he was now. It wasn't very fancy or special, but then again, none of the buildings in the kingdom were. The hospital was just a two-story building made of mismatched gray stone. The first floor held the rooms used for surgery examinations while the second floor housed the patients.

Percy stopped walking and stood in the middle of the square in front of the hospital. Mentally, he reviewed the steps to thievery he had used so many times.

_Step one: take inventory._

Percy looked around him. He was in the town's main square, so many vendors were out selling food and cloth and pots and pans and other household items. He saw the poor beggars sitting against buildings, so dirty they were almost unrecognizable. They looked up with wild, bloodshot eyes at the passing people, asking for money. He saw people who lived in the poorer section of town, dressed in old clothes just as he was, and the people who lived in the nicer section of town, dressed in pressed slacks and fine dresses. He saw palace guards sprinkled throughout the crowd, keeping watch and making sure everything's in order.

_Step two: find your target._

Percy locked his eyes on a palace guard standing near an alley. The guard was young, a little younger than Percy, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He wasn't buff like most other guards, giving Percy the impression that he hadn't been a guard long. He was tall and lanky, much like the green-eyed boy was. Percy grinned. This new guard was perfect.

_Step three: knock him out and steal his clothes. _

It wasn't the most refined step, but it was necessary. Percy slunk his way over to the guard, his hand slowly inching towards his waistband, where his trusty sword, Riptide, was hidden. He kept his eyes locked on the guard and put on a menacing look. By now, the guard was standing just in front of the alley and eying Percy suspiciously. Percy had to bite back a chuckle. This was going to be too easy.

Percy passed by the guard swiftly, brushing him slightly so he had his attention. He walked into the alley and pulled up Riptide's hilt a little, hoping its glint would catch the poor guard's eye.

It did.

"Hey!" he called to Percy, who ignored him and kept walking. He heard the guard's heavy footsteps following him. He called again, "Hey!"

Percy stopped. A sly grin spread across his face. He heard the guard's footsteps slow, heard his heavy breathing, heard the metallic sound of a sword being pulled out of its sheath. Percy counted down from three before pulling his own sword out and whirling around . As fast as lightning, he knocked the sword out of the guard's hand and slammed the hilt of Riptide into his surprised face. His eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground soundlessly.

Percy glanced back out of the alley to see if anyone had seen them. As usual, no one had. And hopefully, no one ever would.

Percy stripped the teen of his uniform and dragged him behind a building, praying no one would find him. Quickly, he changed into the guard's uniform, throwing his own clothes next to the guard. He stuck Riptide into the sheath and stalked out of the alley without a second glance at the unconscious guard.

_Step four: get in and get out. _

Percy had sneaked into the hospital so many times, he could do it in his sleep. He hadn't always disguised himself as a guard – sometimes, he was a nurse or doctor, or even a patient – but that was the easiest disguise he'd ever used. No one questioned why a guard was going into the hospital. No one questioned a guard, period. Percy walked up to the front doors and walked right in without a hitch.

The halls smelled of blood and anesthetic, as they always did. The only light came from the candles and torches sporadically placed on the walls. Nurses, mostly women, walked past him, carrying papers and pushes patients on dirty stretchers. He saw one man with his right arm cut open from the inner elbow to the wrist. His blood was spreading all over the stretcher and his clothes, and he was moaning softly, probably in too much pain to do anything else.

One nurse, a teenage girl with long brown hair, was reading through a stack of papers and ran right into Percy. He gave her a small smile which she blushed at and continued walking.

The medicine was kept in the basement. They kept it there because, apparently, it was the hardest place to get to in the hospital, so it would prevent many burglaries. That fun fact always made Percy want to laugh. If they wanted to prevent burglaries, then they shouldn't have a big door at the end of the hall labeled "BASEMENT" and leave the front doors unlocked.

Percy shoved open the door and skipped down the stairs. He always thought that hospital basement looked like a place where you would raise demons and sacrifice people's souls. Torches mounted on the walls was the only source of light. It was dusty like most basements were, and, like the halls, it smelled of blood. It didn't bother Percy anymore, though. He had been down here enough times to be used to it.

He quietly made his way to the back wall and found the shelf that held many little vials filled with clear liquid. They only took up one shelf and there were about twenty of them. He knew that the disease it was for was rare. Like, really rare. Only one person had it that he knew of. He knew there was another person who had it – that's why they were obligated to keep the meds – but he had never met them or even heard who it was. Probably some rich person who could afford to pay for the little vials.

He reached out his hand and hesitated. Always, right at this moment, right as he was about to steal, he felt guilty. This isn't what he wanted to do. This wasn't right. But stealing was the only way he knew how to help his family. He took a vial.

Within seconds, he had two tucked safely in his boot. He never risked taking more. Two vials was enough for at least a month, and little enough that the doctors wouldn't notice.

Swiftly and quietly, Percy made his way through the dim basement and back up the stairs.

_Step five: don't get caught. _

Minutes after he got out of the hospital, Percy had changed back into his clothes. The guard was still out cold, so Percy, always the immature one, stuck his thumb in his mouth. Grinning, he walked off, the two vials hidden in his waistband, along with his sword.

His mom lived three blocks away, in the poorest district. He started across the square and down the cobblestone streets, his vials rubbing against his abs, as if reminding him that they were there and he had succeeded again.

Percy walked with his head down so not to attract attention, but inside, he was celebrating. He loved the rush of danger he got from stealing and he loved the aftermath after he succeeded. He may not like being a thief, but he loved the feeling he got while doing it. There was nothing in the world like it.

His stomach growled, bringing Percy out of his mental celebration. He needed to find some food somewhere. He hadn't eaten yet that day and his hospital heist had momentarily made him forget that he was hungry at all. His stomach growled again, reminding him to forget about the last time he ate and find some food.

Percy spotted a cart selling fruit to his left. It was busy, which made it easier on Percy. He grabbed and apple as he walked by, completely unnoticed by everyone. He grinned. Some people were just so oblivious.

A stack of newspapers sat next to the cart. Percy usually ignored the newspaper – honestly, who cared about who was named "Best Citizen of the Year" and what aristocrat married what aristocrat? None of it saved the lives of starving people. But today's paper caught his eye.

On the cover was the princess. Percy thought her name was Annabeth. The picture showed her from the waist up, wearing one of her elegant dresses that not even the richest citizen could afford. Her hair was up in some elaborate up-do that looked complicated. Her crown was on her head and she appeared to be half-turned around, smiling at someone behind her. Percy had to admit, the princess was beautiful, even if this was a hand-drawn portrait of her, but she wasn't Percy's type. She was a princess, spoiled rotten and pampered, without a care in the world. Percy wanted a girl who was beautiful (really, what teenage boy wouldn't?) but could also fight; who was kind and sweet but also tough. Most of all, he wanted a girl who had worked for everything she had, and Percy knew for a fact that Princess Annabeth had never worked for a thing in her life.

The story underneath her picture talked about how her coronation was coming up and she still hadn't chosen a suitor. Percy snorted and took a bite of his apple. Heaven forbid the poor girl hadn't found a husband yet. What was she, seventeen? Oh, how the great kingdom of Olympia would fall if their seventeen-year-old princess didn't find her Prince Charming before her eighteenth birthday! Granted, seventeen was a little late to get married – a lot of girls Percy knew had gotten married at thirteen or fourteen – but honestly? Was it really that big of a deal? Did it really matter if she had a husband by the time she became queen.

Percy rolled his eyes and walked off. How insignificant the problems of royalty were compared to what Percy and his family and friends faced everyday. Who cares about coronations and marriage? Percy sure didn't. In his opinion, the king and queen should focus more on their sick and starving citizens than their daughter's love life.

He arrived a few minutes later at his mom's house, his apple long gone. Before he went inside, he glanced around, making sure no one was around and looking at him suspiciously. He may have never gotten caught but he still had to be careful. No one was around, thankfully. No one but their old, cranky neighbor Mrs. Dodds. But she was asleep on her porch. She wouldn't notice Percy.

He opened the door and walked in, immediately met by his little sister.

"Percy!" she cried, running towards him. He bent down and swept her up in a hug while she screamed in delight.

"How you doing, Macy?" he asked her. "Are you being a good girl for Mommy?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her chocolate eyes shining. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and set her down. "Good."

Of course, Macy wasn't really his sister. She was only his half-sister. They had the same mom, but different dads. Percy never knew his dad; he lived in some other kingdom. His mom was young when she had Percy, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Most girls married before that age, but didn't have their first baby until later. His mom wasn't married, and once she found out she was pregnant, she ran here, to Olympia, and raised Percy alone. She didn't marry until Percy was fifteen. Now, almost five years later, Paul and her have a three-year-old daughter. Macy.

"Where's Mommy, Macers?" he asked his sister, ruffling her hair. She giggled and pointed to the kitchen.

The small house had two rooms: a living room, which served as a bedroom to its three residents, and kitchen. As Percy made his way to the kitchen, he passed by the two mats that his family used as beds. His heart ached every time he saw them. His family had so little – they could barely afford food, much less beds. They deserved so much more than this. The deserved much more than beds. They deserved a mansion, filled with the rich foods and clean clothes and only the finest furniture. Macy deserved every toy imaginable. Percy was still young and fit. He should be able to do something about his family's lack of money. But sometimes, it seemed like stealing was the only option.

"Hey, Mom," Percy said, walking into the kitchen. Growing up, the kitchen was his favorite room in the house. It was his mom's favorite also, so she always kept it clean and cozy. The fireplace was almost always lit, giving the house a cozy warmth that always felt good, no matter what time of the year it was. A small wooden table sat in the middle of the small room with four matching wooden chairs, all uneven and wobbly. The counters were always cluttered with pots and pans (his mom loved cooking) and the shelves above were cluttered with cups and plates and forks and spoons and knives. Percy didn't know where they got all of their things; he'd never seen his mom buy anything other than food and material to make new clothes with when the old ones got small. Everything was always just there.

"Oh, Percy," his mom said. She left the fireplace, where she appeared to be boiling water, and gave him a hug. Percy grinned when she saw that she only came up to his chin. He was getting taller.

"How are you?" she asked, sitting across from him at the table. "I haven't seen you in forever, it seems."

"Mom, it's only been a week," he reminded her, chuckling. "And I'm fine. Haven't gotten caught yet."

His mom frowned. She didn't approve of his stealing, but she also knew that it was the only way to ensure that they had enough to eat, so she respected it. "You need to be careful, Percy. People are-"

A bone-rattling scream cut through the air. Percy's heart twisted as he jumped up and ran into the other room. Macy was pressed up against the wall, her small form shaking while she stared wide-eyed at the air. Percy cursed and ran back into the kitchen. He grabbed the vials out of his waistband and tossed them to his mom.

"Put some of this in her food!" he demanded. "Now!"

She stared at him. "But her food isn't ready yet!"

"Find something!" he snapped. "Get her a cup of water! Get her something!"

His mom grabbed a cup from the counter and ran to the fireplace, where the pot with water in it sat. She dunked the cup and scooped up some of the liquid. She set it on the table and struggled to uncork the vial with the medicine in it.

Another heart-piercing scream came from the living room.

"Hurry!" he screamed at his mom, his heart twisting even more.

Finally, she got it open and poured a little bit of the liquid into the water. She thrust the cup at Percy, who ran into the living room and poured half the cup down Macy's throat. She sputtered and coughed, but her tense body relaxed a little bit and the fear left her eyes.

She looked at Percy. "Scary," she said and Percy set down the cup to envelope her in a hug.

Macy had a disease, they had found out about a year after she was born. They couldn't afford to go to a doctor, so they just had to observe her to see what was wrong with her. And at first, nothing seemed wrong with her. She was a normal, happy and care-free toddler. But randomly, her eyes would widen and her body would start shaking, and she would scream. They had no idea what it was she had, because they had never seen anything like it.

It was only when Percy had sneaked into the hospital to see if he could find something to help his little sister that he found out was wrong with her. He had overheard two doctors talking about some brain disease that they were short medicine for. He hadn't heard who had it or what caused it. All he had heard was that it caused one to see things that weren't there and that there was medicine for it downstairs.

That was when he started stealing from the hospital. He stole because his sister would die if he didn't.

"Percy," his mom said, her voice controlled, like she was holding back tears, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

He nodded and pulled away from Macy. "You okay?" he asked her and she nodded.

"Yup," she assured him. Her smile was so brilliant, it was as if she had never had an attack at all. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before picking up the doll she had dropped and going back to fixing her dress.

"Yeah, Mom?" he asked, coming back into the kitchen.

His mom was sitting in a chair at the table, nervously fiddling with her brown curly hair. He sat across from her and picked at the wood. For a couple minutes, they sat like that, not talking. But then his mom broke the silence.

"Percy, Macy's getting worse."

Percy looked up and saw how dark his mom's brown eyes had become with worry. His stomach dropped. "I know," he replied, looking back down at the table.

"No, you don't, Percy. She's having more and more attacks. She's gone from one every now and then to one every day. And eventually, it'll get bad enough that medicine won't help. And we can't afford a doctor. We can barely afford food now."

"I'll just steal some more. They haven't caught me y-"

"Percy," his mom said firmly. He looked up at her. Her expression wasn't worried anymore. It was...scared.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, not wanting to hear the answer.

His mom swallowed. "They know your name now, Percy."

Percy stared at her. One of things he was most proud of was his secrecy. He was so good that no one knew what he looked like, where he lived. No one even knew his name. They just knew that there was someone who stole. A lot.

But now, now everything had changed. Now they knew his name. And now that they know his name, they'll eventually know what he looks like. And so on until he gets caught.

"I'll be careful," he told his mom. "I promise."

His mom smiled. "I know you will. I just couldn't bear it if you-"

The front door open and shut. Percy heard Macy excited squeal. "Daddy!"

"Paul's here," his mom said, and looked at him. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

Percy shook his head. He was too riled up and emotionally-strung out to sit down and have a meal with his family. "I should be going," he said and kissed his mom on the cheek.

He said good-bye to Paul and Macy before running out into the warm June night, yet another burden laying on his shoulders.

**Whew! I finally updated! Go me! Anyway, I am so excited for this story! I'm almost done outlining it, and let me tell you, it's going to be so awesome. It's all ready 34 chapters long and I'm not even done. It'll get better, I promise, if you didn't like this chapter. First chapters are always a bit boring and dull, don't you think? This was really just an intro into Percy's life, a few important things are in here and some foreshadowing, blah blah blah, whatever. It'll get better. I promise (I tried to add some irony in there, when Percy was talking about his type of girl. Ha! Oh, Percy, if only you knew...). In the meantime, review? I accept CC, flames, and, obviously, praise.  
**

**"What shall we then say to these things? If God is for us, then who can be against us?" Romans 8:31 (KJV)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns all PJO characters. **

Chapter Two

Annabeth

"_Whatever you choose, however many roads you travel, I hope that you choose not to be a lady. I hope you will find some way to break the rules and make a little trouble out there. And I also hope that you will choose to make some of that trouble on behalf of women."_

_(Nora Ephron)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth ran her hand over the spines of the books, reveling in the power that comes with knowing worlds are beneath your fingers. She sighed. She wished she could escape to one of these worlds. She wished she could surround herself with buckling pirates, or mermaids, or lands where there wasn't a law that the princess must be married by her eighteenth birthday in order to become queen.

Her fingers stopped on a worn, beat-up spine that radiated familiarity. She smiled and pulled out the book.

For some reason, Pride and Prejudice had always been her favorite book. Even as a little girl, she found the story of love and hate more fascinating than any of the fairy tales that ever fell upon her ears. She liked the simplicity of the story, how the plot was so original, yet so cliché. You meet someone and hate them, but then, over time, that hate turns into the purest of love. She loved the personality of the sisters (especially Lizzie) and how all of the minor characters contributed to the story in some way. She loved the flow of the story and the happy ending. But most of all, Annabeth loved the freedom the Bennet sisters had in marriage. There was pressure to find a wealthy man, but there was no law preventing a marriage to a man from a lower class.

A place with no law. That's where Annabeth wanted to go. Or rather, a place without _the _law. Annabeth opened the book and read the first line: _It is a truth universally acknowledged , that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife. _

Annabeth usually loved the first line of the book. It basically summed up the whole plot in a single sentence. But today, it reminded her too much of the law that was stuck to her like a bomb waiting to go off.

_If the king and queen's only offspring are women, the eldest must be married to someone else of equal or higher standing by her eighteenth birthday in order to ascend the throne. _

The words echoed in Annabeth's ears. Equal or higher standing. Eighteen. Must be married. It was as if she was tied down by words, unable to escape. They were words! Annabeth wanted to scream. Only words written on a page that could so easily be erased!

She glared down at the book in her hand. If only there were men more like Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley. Men with high standing and money, and manners and respect. But they were fictional characters for a reason. No men existed like that. They either had high standing and money, but no self-respect for themselves or for women. Or they had manners and respect and were kind and thoughtful, but had no money.

If only she had a few more years. She was only seventeen – eighteen in a month. Still a mere child, at least in her own eyes. She wished desperately that she had a couple more years to decide. She could marry at twenty. But she knew her parents would never agree. Their ancestors had written the law, so they would abide by it. _It's your duty, _they would tell her. _Your duty to your kingdom. If you can't marry for yourself, marry for your people. _

And because she was raised to put the kingdom of Olympia before herself, she agreed. She would marry for them because they believed in her.

She told herself that over and over again. She was doing this for the people, her people. It was her duty to her country. But even as her mind convinced her that it was the right thing, her heart told her she was making the worst decision of her life.

She supposed that's what made her insult every suitor who has come in here for the past year. Her subconsciousness doing what her heart was telling her to do: get rid of them. She didn't know why she would insult every man who tried to win her over and make a fool out of them. Perhaps she was destined to never be married. She was pretty rambunctious, not at all like the women in the kingdom who would crawl on their hands and feet in mud just because their husbands demanded it of them.

Or perhaps there was someone else out in the world who Annabeth already felt a connection to. Maybe she was already in love with someone she'd never met.

Annabeth let out a frustrated sigh and shut the book, putting it back on the shelf. She knew she should be in her room getting ready with Piper, her maid and her best friend, not in the palace library. But she was running from something and this was one of the places she came when running.

Annabeth made her way to the far left corner of the room, where she kept her little stash of fairy tales. She sometimes wondered what people thought when they found out about her addiction to fairy tales. How ironic, they probably thought, that a princess loves books about other princesses! Shouldn't it be a bit boring to read about princesses when you are one?

In fact, it was the exact opposite. Annabeth found the books to be more interesting than the ones her mother wanted her to read. Of course, she still had her favorites: Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, Sense and Sensibility. But these tales of princesses and knights in shining armor, magic apples and an eternal sleep, frogs that are actually princes and enchanted roses. Annabeth was fascinated by all of that because she was a princess. She knew that it was all fake and none of it was logical, but part of Annabeth always wondered and dreamed about these things happening to her.

She was older now, and knew without a doubt that kissing a frog wouldn't turn him into a prince and that there was no such thing as enchanted roses. But a small part of her that would always be there would yearn for it, for a fairytale in the middle of her royal life.

"Annabeth?" a small voice called. Her name echoed throughout the large library and Annabeth sighed. She wished she could stay here with her fairy tales all day, dreaming about fictional princes instead of going to meet real ones.

"Here," she said and Piper made her way through the maze of bookshelves to the corner where Annabeth was sitting. She noticed the stack of books in her hand and the frown on her face and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Prince Charles is here," she told her quietly. "You need to go get ready." Then, as if it was a second thought, she added, "I'll do your hair if you'd like me to."

Annabeth smiled. Piper was a goddess when it came to hair and makeup. She always helped Annabeth get ready for balls and outings into the kingdom, where she had to look her best. Plus, she enjoyed talking with Piper. They were best friends. She might need a little boost of encouragement for what she was about to face.

"Okay," she agreed. "Let's go."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Piper didn't disappoint.

Ten minutes later, Annabeth had her face coated in makeup and her honey-blonde curls in an elaborate bun on top of her head. Piper had tried to put some powder on Annabeth's face and neck to give her a more porcelain skin tone, but Annabeth had refused. She was naturally tan, much to her mother's dismay, and long hours in the sun practicing her archery and swordplay only added to her bronze coloring. Most women hated being tan – it showed that they couldn't afford labor workers and had to do the work themselves – but Annabeth wore hers proudly. So instead of powder, Piper had settled on some nude powder on her eyelids, pink blush, and light pink lipstick. She looked stunning, Annabeth had to admit, and thanked Piper for her help.

"Do you want me to pick out your dress?" she asked politely, knowing full well what Annabeth's answer would be.

Annabeth smiled and shook her head. "No. I think I can handle choosing a gown. But you can stay in here and walk with me downstairs once I'm ready."

Piper grinned, relieved. Annabeth knew what the head mistress had them do if they weren't needed by the royal family. Mopping all the floors in the palace, scrubbing the bathrooms, cleaning the horses' stalls. It all sounded terrible, so Annabeth tried to keep Piper around as often as she could, giving her random jobs, like organizing the small bookcase in her room and fetching her food from the kitchen for a mid-afternoon snack.

Piper made herself comfortable on one of Annabeth's couches in the sitting area of her room while Annabeth walked into her closet.

"Closet" wasn't really the right word. It was like a separate room connected to her room just for clothes. Two walls were dedicated to her dresses, another wall to shoes, and the last wall to jewelry and a drawer for her slacks and shirts she used for combat. In the middle were a few chairs in case she needed friends to help her decide on a gown, which never happened. Annabeth was independent.

She walked over to the wall where she kept her simple gowns. The princess had different strategies when it came to what to wear when meeting a suitor. She was a big believer in first impressions and clothes contributed to that. You can tell a lot about a person based on what they wear. Knowing that, Annabeth would sometimes choose dresses found mainly on commoner and sometimes she would decide on big, frilly dresses with many bows and ribbons and lace that would most definitely scare the suitors away.

Today, Annabeth decided on a plain brown commoner's dress. The neckline was lined with lace, as was the sleeves, which reached her inner elbow. Because her parents would get angry with her, she chose a diamond necklace to add some sparkle to the otherwise plain outfit that her mother hated. She left her crown in her closet, not wanting to bother with it. She hated the thing; it always pinched her head, the end result being a very nasty she exited the closet, Piper looked her up and down and rolled her eyes. "Oh, Annabeth," she said with an exhausted sigh, "when are you ever going to learn that these men don't care about what you wear. You're a princess and heir to the throne. You could be fat and have warts and they wouldn't care."

Now it was Annabeth's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, Piper," she imitated, "clothes have power just as words have power. If the prince sees me in this, I won't be as pretty as I would be in my normal dresses."

"Well," Piper continued, "if you're trying to downplay your beauty and look all commoner-ish, then maybe you shouldn't wear this." She went behind Annabeth and in one swift motion, undid the clasp and swept off of her neck. She held it in front of Annabeth's face with a smirk. "This doesn't exactly scream, 'I'm a commoner.'"

"My mother will kill me if I don't wear something to signify that I'm the princess and I am _not _wearing my crown."

Piper rolled her eyes again and walked swiftly into the closet. Annabeth started to follow her, but she came out again holding Annabeth's most simple necklace. It was a gold chain with a gold ring in the middle. Her father had gotten Annabeth the ring for her thirteenth birthday, and so she wouldn't lose it, she put it an empty chain she had. She wore almost everyday.

"How about this one?" Piper asked with a knowing smile. Annabeth grinned and turned around so Piper could put it around her neck.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror on her bureau. Piper was right. The necklace with her father's ring on it was much better than the diamond necklace she had put on. She smiled. This was why her and Piper were best friends.

Annabeth looked at the clock on her bureau. It read 12:05. "Oh snap. We're late," she told Piper. "We were supposed to be done in the ballroom five minutes ago."

"You're mom is going to kill you," Piper told her helpfully, earning a glare from the princess.

"Shut up," she told her as they hurried out of the door.

It took approximately ten seconds of scrambling down the hallway in a very un-princess-like manner for Annabeth to realize she forgot shoes. When the slapping of the soles of her feet against the hard stone of the floor finally registered in Annabeth's mind, she looked at Piper with wide eyes.

"Piper," she gasped. "I don't have any shoes on."

Both girls momentarily stopped running and gazed down at Annabeth's bare feet. There was no time to turn back and get shoes, unless she wanted to be later than she already was. And there was no way Piper could get some while Annabeth ran down and deliver them to her. There would be too many people around and it would be very embarrassing, even for Annabeth, the girl who didn't really care what people thought. As if in silent agreement, the girls looked at each other and Annabeth let go of her hiked up skirt and let it fall. She let out a sigh of relief once she saw that if she didn't hold her skirt up to walk, then it covered her bare feet.

"Thank God," she breathed.

Piper nodded in agreement. "Thank God." And they continued running.

Once they reached the door of the ballroom, Piper grabbed Annabeth's arm and pulled her back from bursting into the room, out of breath and her hair in a disarray. "You can't go in like that," she said and began to fix her hair, tightening the pins and wrapping the loose strands around her finger to give them an extra bounce.

"Thanks," Annabeth said once she caught her breath. A thought entered her mind and she smiled. "I'll just be fashionably late."

Piper cracked a smile. "Yes. Fashionably late. You want me to walk in there with you?"

"No," Annabeth answered immediately and upon seeing her face fall, Annabeth suddenly remembered _why _Piper wanted to stay with her. "But you can go clean my room," she added on quickly. "A deep cleaning. I don't want to see a speck of dust once I get back, understand? And organize my bookshelf too. I think I want the alphabetized by the author's first name."

Piper grinned at Annabeth and mock-curtsied. "Yes, ma'am," she teased and scampered off to complete the list of chores she'd been given.

Annabeth turned to face the set of double doors before her, the only thing separating her from yet another man her parents wanted her to marry. Annabeth prayed silently that maybe this guy would turn out to be different. With a deep breath, she pushed open the doors and immediately heard her mother's voice call out loudly, "And here she is!"

Annabeth turned her gaze to her mother, purposefully avoiding looking at the man standing next to her father. Her mother, Queen Athene, looked nothing like her. She had long, wavy dark hair instead of the light, curly mop Annabeth had been given. Her mother was pale also, as women of high standing should be. Athene was tall, whereas Annabeth was average, not tall, but not short either. The only thing she seemed to inherit from her mother were her eyes – a pair of gray orbs, speckled with blue, that could go from the color of cobblestones to the color of the sky during a thunderstorm, and matched Annabeth's exactly.

"Prince Charles, this is my daughter, Princess Annabeth," her mother informed the man Annabeth still refused to look at. "She usually wears something a little more formal for things such as these."

Annabeth felt a surge of satisfaction at her mother's annoyance with her choice of outfit. She loved her mother, but looking like she was disobedient in front of the man she despised already was exactly what Annabeth needed. She had to fight down the urge to smile.

"She has good choice in jewelry, though," her father, King Fredrick muttered. Annabeth grinned and gazed at her father, not daring to move her eyes to the left of him.

Annabeth figured she inherited more of her father's features than her mother's. She was still unique when it came to her hair – the king had dark hair as well – but she shared facial features with him: full lips, long and dark eyelashes, small nose, not one single freckle across her face. She shared his personality as well – where the queen was a strict, no-nonsense type of women, the king had a sense of humor and made sarcastic comments often, much like Annabeth did. Both her parents had a thirst for knowledge, though, which was passed down to Annabeth. And both cared a great much about their kingdom, which was also passed down to Annabeth.

"Annabeth, this is Prince Charles of Midon," Athene said, dragging Annabeth farther from the door and closer to her suitor. "You remember what we told you about him, correct?"

_Of course_ Annabeth remembered. How old was she, six? She remembered that he was the youngest of three. The eldest was a man who had taken the throne years ago (her mother had given her the exact date, but Annabeth hadn't felt like figuring out how long ago it was exactly), and the middle was a woman who had married a while ago also. Prince Charles was twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight, exactly ten years older than her. She hadn't been given any portraits of him, so in her mind, she pictured his as an old man with a beard, pimples all over his face, and rotten teeth, half of them gone.

Her mother nudged her in the side with her elbow, signaling Annabeth to look at the guy. Annabeth groaned in her mind and angrily tore her eyes away from the ground and to the prince.

He wasn't what she had pictured at all. He definitely wasn't drop dead gorgeous, but he also wasn't ugly. He was tall, very tall, and had dirty-blonde hair that was cut military-style. He clearly worked out; Annabeth could see his muscles underneath his uniform. She looked up at his face and saw nothing special. He didn't have a chiseled face, but it wasn't pudgy – it was in between. His eyes were blue, a deep blue that was the shade of the sky between the twilight and the black night sky.

"Princess Annabeth," Charles said and his voice wasn't that deep, which was a surprise. Most men who were almost thirty had deeper voices, at least in Annabeth's opinion. This guy's voice sounded like it had been taken out of a fifteen-year-old. She almost felt sorry for him.

"Prince Charles," Annabeth replied, clipping her words. "It's an honor to meet you."

She felt her mother smile in satisfaction. She wished Piper was here so she could share a _kill-me-now_ look with someone. "Well," Athene said, keeping a firm grip on Annabeth's arm, as if sensing that if she let go, she'd take off, "Annabeth, you and Charles should get acquainted. The gardens are beautiful this time of year." Then, she grabbed Fredrick's hand and walked out of the room, not without shooting Annabeth a stern look.

She glowered at her mother's back as she walked out before turning to Charles. He had his hand interlocked in front of him and he was twisting them nervously.

Annabeth blinked. He was...nervous? Okay, _that _had never happened before. Most of her suitors had either been cocky or indifferent.

"The gardens are pretty," she confirmed her mother's words. "Do you want to go see them?"

The prince nodded stiffly and held out an arm for her to take. Annabeth glanced at it and brushed past it with a smirk on her face. She could just picture his surprised face at the princess who didn't seem to have manners.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth figured out pretty quickly that Charles was a jerk.

They walked through the rose garden, Annabeth's personal favorite of all the palace's gardens. Sometimes, her and Piper would walk through here when the roses had just bloomed and pick the best ones to make Annabeth's perfume with. She knew every pathway and secret passage and shortcut like the back of her hand.

The sun was shining brightly, and Annabeth's hairline was collecting sweat by the second. She resisted the urge to lift up her skirts and let the cool breeze cool down her bare feet. She couldn't imagine how hot Charles was in his uniform, which was buttoned up to his chin.

"So, you're the youngest of three, right?" Annabeth recalled, trying to make conversation. Until then, the couple had been walking in an awkward silence.

Charles nodded. "Yes. My older brother is thirty-six, and my older sister is thirty."

"I'm an only child," Annabeth said blatantly. "Sometimes, I wished I had a sibling. Someone to hang out with."

Charles shrugged. "I think one rambunctious child was enough for your parents."

Annabeth stopped walking. Her face heated up with anger and she felt her gray eyes narrow. She'd had suitors who were jerks before, but none of them had straight-up insulted her. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice raising an octave.

Charles stopped walking and turned to face her. "What?"

"Did you just call me 'rambunctious'?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

The prince looked startled, like he hadn't realized his words would make her angry. "Well, yeah. At least, that's what my father called you when he visited your parents some years ago."

Annabeth glared at him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that the king of Midon had visited her parents when she was five. That thought made her want to slap him. She was five! What five-year-old isn't hyper and rambunctious? She turned on her heel and walked away from him.

"Wait, wait!" she heard Charles call from behind her and the hurried click-clack of his boots against the stone pathway. She rolled her eyes and picked up her pace. She didn't want to speak to this guy any longer.

"Princess, hold on," he said, much closer now, and grabbed her elbow. She turned her fierce gaze to him and it might have just been a trick of the light, but Annabeth thought he took a step back. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I didn't mean to insult you. I just meant-" He looked down – in embarrassment, Annabeth guessed – and did a double take. "Are you wearing any shoes?"

Annabeth looked down and saw that her dress had been twisted and her bare toes were peeking out. Her face colored, but she forced herself not to be embarrassed. This guy wasn't worth her embarrassment.

"No," she stated blatantly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Charles continued staring at her bare feet in disgust. She rolled her eyes and wrenched her arm from his grip. "Listen," she said sharply, "I was late and didn't have time to grab shoes. In case you were wondering, I usually wear shoes. If you have a problem with one little mistake, I don't think I can marry you."

The prince looked back up at her in surprise. "Why were you late? Weren't you in your room doing needlepoint or something?"

They stared at each for a few seconds, Annabeth completely horrified at his words. She was astonished that he would even think that was how she spent her days. There is way more to a princess than knitting and sitting straight. In a fit of blind anger, she lifted her hand up and slapped him.

"I pity the woman who has to marry you," she snapped and stalked off.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The metallic ringing of blades clashing echoed in Annabeth's ears. She narrowed her eyes at Piper and put more force into her strike, pushing Piper's dagger down with her own, attempting to disarm her. Six months ago, just pushing down her knife would've worked on the poor girl, but Piper's improved a lot since Annabeth invited her to train with her. Now, their fights lasted longer and both girls ended up sweaty and exhausted.

It was a new task Annabeth had developed so that Piper didn't have to go back and work for the awful headmistress. She needed a sparring partner ever since her teacher, Chiron, got into an accident and was assigned to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. She'd practiced on dummies, but it wasn't the same as fighting against an actual, living human who could think and be tactical. So Annabeth had asked Piper to train with her. Besides, girls needed to learn how to fight, especially in the world they lived in.

She hadn't told Piper what had happened with Charles yet. Of course, Piper knew something had happened (they were best friends), but she didn't pry and Annabeth was thankful for that. She didn't want to talk about that man and she didn't think she ever would. Same with the duke that had come three days ago and the grandson of the king before him, and so on. She never talked about her horrible suitors because she didn't believe they were worth her time.

Piper slid her blade out from underneath Annabeth's and took a step back. Annabeth grinned at her. "Nice," she complimented her. "Who'd you learn that move from? It wasn't me."

"It was actually me," an old, hoarse voice called out. Annabeth turned around to see her favorite person in the world wheeling into the small arena.

"Chiron," Annabeth said, her smile widening. "When did you teach Piper that?"

"Sometimes, at the end of the day, Chiron and I come out here and he trains me," Piper said. "That's why I've improved so much."

Annabeth pursed her lips and shrugged. She hadn't known that. She was proud of Piper for taking the initiative to actually learn self-defense. Most girls would just do it to get out of working.

"Your mother wishes to speak to you Annabeth," Chiron announced and Annabeth's stomach dropped. She did not want to speak to her mother, not now. She was still riled up about Charles comments and if her mother started getting onto _her _about being rude, she swore she would explode. And exploding on her mother was a very, very bad thing to do.

Instead, she gripped her knife – her favorite knife, which she always had on under her dress and never went anywhere without – and turned to face Piper. "Go again?" she challenged and Piper grinned fiercely, getting into a ready stance.

They circled each other until Piper made the first move, a quick jab to the gut that Annabeth easily blocked. Annabeth took a step forward and thrust her knife towards Piper's waist, which Piper quickly sidestepped. In a flash, Piper was on her and they were in a full-blown match, knives clashing and flying about, neither girl giving in to the other. Annabeth was barely aware of Chiron off to the side, shouting tips and instructions.

"Watch your left side!" he called towards Annabeth. "You're stepping too much into your thrusts, Piper!"

They kept fighting, slowly getting high off the rush of battle. The adrenaline pumping through their veins kept them fighting for a good five minutes before both of them started getting tired, not putting as much thought into their moves. Annabeth thought they were both going to drop their weapons and collapse, but then a voice echoed throughout the arena.

"_Annabeth Chase_!" her mother screamed as she stalked into the area. She lowered her knife and Piper shot her a look that said _good luck _before scampering off, probably to go finish cleaning Annabeth's room.

The queen's eyes were almost black with anger. Her crown twinkled in the sunlight, the light bouncing off the jewels and decorating the floor with little crystals of light. Annabeth almost found it humorous how contrasting the crown and her mother's face were.

"Yes?" she asked timidly, subtly shrinking away from the woman. Annabeth was a brave girl, but even the bravest person would wither away underneath Athene's wrath.

"I cannot believe you," she said, her words clipped, a sign that she was really angry. "Prince Charles came all the way down here to Olympia from Midon just to meet you and you slap him? I thought I taught you better!"

"Is he gone?" The words shot out of her before she could even process them. Annabeth wanted to slap her hand over her mouth.

"Yes, he's gone, all thanks to you!" Athene practically screamed. She radiated disapproval. "He left saying, 'That princess of yours is a disgrace to your name!' And there was a red hand mark on his face. Annabeth, what did you do?"

She shrugged. "He deserved it. That jerk."

Athene's face softened, though some of her rage was still there. "Annabeth," she said and her voice didn't hold as much irritation, "that's the fifth suitor you've chased away _this month. _Whether you like it or not, you're about to turn eighteen and the law says you must be married. Sooner or later, you're going to have to choose one of these men."

Annabeth's heart was racing out of revulsion for these men. She couldn't choose one. She wouldn't. She moved over to the targets next to where she had been sparring and picked up three knives that had been scattered about from her last session. She threw one at the target and missed the center by two inches.

"I choose later," she told her mother as she picked up another one.

Athene let out an infuriated sigh and followed her daughter. "You don't get a choice in whether you want to marry or not. _It's going to happen. _It's in the law so learn to accept it."

Annabeth ignored her and threw the second knife at the next target. An inch away.

"You're our only daughter, our only child. You're our only option for an heir. I'm sorry that you don't like any of the suitors that are eligible, but can you find one that you can at least put up with? We're not only running out of time, but we're running out of men who want to marry you. And if you're not married by next month, we have to choose a man so that you can be queen."

Her mother's words echoed in her ears. Anger surged through her and she picked up the next knife and threw it at and last target. It hit the center and sank down to its hilt.

The queen stared at it. "Wha—how...?"

Annabeth turned to glare at her mother. "What if I don't want to get married at all, to anyone? What if I don't want to be the queen?"

Athene turned her shocked gaze to her daughter. Annabeth's eyes were wild, she could feel them. Her hands were shaking from nerves or anger, she didn't know which one. They had a silent staring contest for what felt like years before Athene sighed in defeat.

"Remember, there's a ball in two days, so I'll be swamped with preparations," she reminded Annabeth. She took a step back to leave, paused, then added, "Many suitors will be there, so make sure that you look your best. You'll find your husband there, I'm sure." She gave Annabeth a sympathetic smile – even though she couldn't _possibly_ know how Annabeth felt – and exited the arena. Annabeth watched her go, so swift and quietly, like a queen should walk.

After that whole argument, she still didn't understand. She didn't understand that Annabeth didn't want to get married at all, or at least not then. She didn't understand that she wasn't cut out to be a queen, whether she wanted to be one or not. After everything, her mother still didn't understand.

Annabeth let out a frustrated scream and unsheathed her favorite knife and threw it at the first target again. It hit the center, sinking hilt-deep also.

Sometimes, she felt like she was hilt-deep in life, just waiting for someone to pull her out.

**Hey! Here's an update for you wonderful people! Thanks for all the reviews I got for last chapter! Way more than I expected. I hoped you guys liked this chapter. Personally, I thought it was better than the last chapter. Definitely longer! And if you're thinking that it's going a little slow, I'm just setting up the story. Percy and Annabeth should meet in a couple chapters. I'm so excited!**

**And just so you know, yes I did change Athena's name to Athens (uh - thee - new). Queen Athena sounded weird and Athene is a name originated from Athena. Plus, it just sounds cool. **

**Please review, follow, or favorite!**

**"I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." Genesis 28:15**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Percy

"_You will come to know that what appears today to be a sacrifice will prove instead to be the greatest investment that you will ever make."_

_(Gordon B. Hinckley)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

_He said good-bye to Paul and Macy before running out into the warm June night, yet another burden laying on his shoulders. _

The warm air suffocated Percy. He ran as quickly and quietly as he could through the cobblestone streets, keeping his head down as he went. Outside, he looked calm and collected, but inside, his mind was racing. They knew his name. The name Percy Jackson was circulating in the guards' minds. Just that thought made him panic. It may be only one small step, but one step leads to another and another until eventually, they'd find him and he wouldn't be able to escape.

He had to be more careful. His family was depending on him. Macy was depending on him. He couldn't let down the person he loved most in the world. He couldn't let her die. He wouldn't let her die.

As he walked, Percy tried to come up with a plan. He needed to get more medicine for Macy. If she was getting worse, then he needed to make runs to the hospital more often. But how often? He couldn't go every other day. He'd definitely get caught then. And he couldn't steal more than two or three bottles every time he went or they'd notice. He'd have to go every two weeks and steal three bottles at a time, maybe four depending on how much is there. Hopefully that would keep her healthy enough until he could come up with a better system.

He made it to the wall of trees lining the town. Houses were built in front of it, but that wasn't a problem to Percy. He knew people in this neighborhood. He grew up here. Not everyone knew what he did now – most thought he had gone to live in another kingdom, others thought he was living in another part of Olympia, some even thought he was dead (although it didn't take much to notice how he visited his mom practically everyday). He slipped silently in between his friend Leo's house and his cousin Jason's house. It was pretty convenient how they lived next to each other and right in front of Percy's hideout. It made it much easier for him to get around. They wouldn't question a guy going in and out of the woods everyday, especially since they're robbers too.

The cobblestone beneath Percy's feet quickly changed to dirt as he entered the woods. His place was about an hour's walk from the kingdom, but Percy wasn't in the mood for walking. He picked up speed and began running, reveling in the wind rushing by his ears and the fresh air forcing itself into his lungs. He wasn't a fast runner, not at all, but he enjoyed running, simple because of the rush it gave him. Just like stealing gave him a rush.

In forty minutes, his new record, Percy reached his hideout. It wasn't anything fancy (nothing he owned was fancy), but it was his home. The wooden shed, 144 square feet, the size of an average bedroom, was in shambles when Percy and his friends had found it. With a little work, they had managed to fix it up and make it livable. Percy lived there full-time and had it open for his friends and family if they needed a place to stay. There was a door that was falling off the hinges, but Percy never took the time to fix it, and three windows, all boarded up to make it look abandoned in case someone happened to come across it that wasn't supposed to be there. Inside was an array of supplies, ranging from food and clothes to weapons and first aid supplies. Four crates were lined up against the back wall, a few blankets draped over it in attempt to create a makeshift bed.

Percy trudged tiredly inside his home and collapsed on his bed. He was exhausted, like he always was after a run. The rush of danger, exhilaration of knowing he could get caught at any moment, the energy required to pull off the whole scheme; it made him keel over with exhaustion every time he did it. Percy laid on his back and stared at the dirty ceiling, covered in dirt and mold. Sometimes, on lonely nights like these, he would miss what he left behind: his parents, his sister, a home, a normal life. He could have had that, he knew. He could have had a normal life. He was a strong, handsome young man. If he didn't do what he did, Percy guessed he would be working somewhere, maybe at the blacksmith or at the sea. He might have even been a guard, which made Percy chuckle. He would either be married or getting married. He might have kids.

Percy shook all these thoughts away. It was no use, thinking of what could have been. This is what he chose; the life of an outlaw, a criminal. He chose to provide for his family, who couldn't provide for themselves. He might wish occasionally that he was normal, but he would never regret his decision.

He fell asleep within minutes, dreaming of his family and Macy, little Macy, completely, wholeheartedly healthy.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The next two weeks passed by quickly, a collage of visits to his family and swordplay behind his shed to pass the time. He made runs sometimes, food runs, mostly, for his mom, who ran out of food quickly. He knew when to make his next run to the hospital and was prepared for it, but passing the time until then was a pain.

So it was almost a relief when Thalia and Grover arrived.

They didn't look any different from the last time Percy saw them. Grover, Percy's best friend, was walking with a slight limp, as he always had. He had said something a while ago about how he got it from a childhood accident, but he never specified what kind of accident. The guy was twenty, same age as Percy (well, technically, Percy was still nineteen – his birthday wasn't until August), and had curly burnt orange hair and acne sprinkled across his pale face. They had been best friends since they were twelve and knew practically everything about each other. Grover had even helped Percy perform his first heist: an apple from one of the many food carts throughout Olympia.

Thalia was the polar opposite of Grover. Where Grover liked to lie low and only steal and do dangerous things of necessary, Thalia had danger running through her blood. She was swift and a skilled fighter, not to mention beautiful, at least, according to the townsmen. She had short black hair and tan skin, which she wore proudly. Her eyes were the most interesting part about her though. They were bright blue, and looked like lightning crackled inside them. They sparkled when she fought, like she enjoyed beating you to pulp. Sometimes, when she stayed in Olympia to visit her brother, Jason, her and Percy would have "friendly" battles, which quickly escalated into a full-on I'm-gonna-kill-you-if-you-don't-give-up-soon sessions.

They were Percy's two best friends and he was ecstatic to see them laughing as they walked towards him.

"Hey, Kelp-For-Brains!" Thalia greeted him, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Percy was a strong guy, but Thalia could crush even the strongest man with her hugs.

"Hey, Thals," he said, grinning. "Hate seeing you here again."

"Yeah, I was hoping you were dead by now."

They shared a laugh. His and Thalia's relationship was always like this; make fun of each other and tease each other to eternity, but die for each other.

"Perce!" Grover shouted. Percy looked away from his cousin and walked over to Grover, who was slowly stumbling towards them, bearing the weight of two sacks on his back. Percy quickly grabbed one and helped bring them back to the shed.

"How have you been?" he asked Grover once they dropped the bags near the door.

"Great," he replied. "Atlantis is really beautiful. I wish you could have come."

So that's where they were, Percy thought. Atlantis. It was Olympia's neighboring kingdom, a three day journey from there. Percy had never gone; he'd never gone anywhere, too caught up in providing for his family to even want to go anywhere. If they'd gone to Atlantis, that explained the bags. They always brought back supplies from there. Food, clothing, the occasional sword or knife. Almost everything Percy owned came from his friends' trips. He didn't even know where they got them. They're probably stolen.

"Well," Percy said, "you guys are probably exhausted. You can crash here for as long as you'd like."

The three went inside and Percy threw them some bread he had been saving for lunch. He never ate bread, only fruit and veggies and sometimes meat, if he could manage to get his hands on some. But if he was making a run that day to the hospital, he would eat a few pieces. It was his treat to himself, and, in a way, a ritual. He always had bread before he left and he always got away without a hitch.

He tore off a piece and started munching on it, looking at Thalia and Grover expectantly. "So," he started, his mouth still full of food, "why were you guys in Atlantis this time?"

"Visiting Grover's girlfriend again," Thalia said quickly, sighing dramatically. Percy wasn't surprised. That's pretty much the only reason they went to Olympia. Juniper, Grover's girlfriend, lived there and they usually visited her two or three times a year for a couple months.

"How is she?" Percy directed his question to Grover. He started in on how wonderful she is and how amazing she looked and how much he misses her already. Thalia rolled her eyes as he talked and yawned. But when Grover said, "Percy, we've got something to tell you," her bored expression morphed into a serious one.

Percy's heart started racing. They'd never come back with news for him before. Maybe they knew a way to heal Macy. Or maybe there was a better place for his family to live, a nicer place with better jobs and better pay. He'd move them there in a heartbeat if that was true.

"We heard a rumor," Thalia starts, talking slowly, always one for dramatics, "that Olympia's most wanted criminal is named Percy Jackson."

At first, Percy's not surprised. He's only ever lived in Olympia, so imagining other kingdoms out there with other people and other rulers was hard for him to imagine. If one kingdom knew his name, wouldn't everyone? But then it hit him: another _kingdom_ knew his name. They knew who Percy Jackson was. It baffled him.

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm Olympia's most wanted," he said.

Grover laughed, earning a glare from Thalia. He recoiled slightly and she turned to Percy. "Percy, I'm serious," she said. "They know your name."

Percy sighed. "I know. Olympia knows it too."

"How did that even happen?"

Percy wondered the same thing. How did that happen? He had friends, but they were all robbers too, or had a record of some kind. He hadn't told anyone else, he was sure...

Oh. Suddenly, Percy remembered a girl with red hair and bright green eyes. He didn't know her name, didn't know who she was. But she had helped him escape an angry vendor and in thanks, he had told her his name. His face reddened as he remembered what had happened next: a kiss. A kiss with a girl he didn't even know. How much more stupid could he be?

"A girl," he said quietly. "I told some girl I met. She must have told someone else."

Silence. Percy nervously twisted his hands together, watching Grover and Thalia process the information. Then Thalia's hand twitched. A stinging burn spread across Percy's face.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, clutching his cheek. "Why'd you slap me?"

"Could you be more stupid?" Thalia snarled. "What kind of person tells a girl they don't even know their name?" She paused. "Wait, let me rephrase that. What kind of skilled, wanted criminal tells a girl their name? An idiotic one, that's who!"

Percy looked pleadingly at Grover, who was silently watching the ordeal unfold at Thalia's side. He was scratching his arms, a nervous habit he had. "Grover, you're on my side, right?"

The boy stared at him.

"Come on, Grover, you understand, right?" Percy tried again.

He scratched his arms some more. "Well, uh, it was kind of a stupid thing to do..." he said, trailing off uncertainly.

Percy sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, they were right. He didn't know what he was thinking, telling that girl his name. He thought he was much more refined than that. It was a bit embarrassing, actually. Quickly, he tried to change the subject. "Yeah, sorry about that," he said. "I didn't mean to. But we have worse things to worry about." Frantically, he told them the situation with his family. Thalia's face softened when he mentioned Macy. The two girls had always had a special relationship, as if they were sisters. Thalia was able to get Macy to stop screaming and come out of whatever trance she was under faster than Percy would ever be able to. He didn't understand; maybe it was just a girl thing.

Thalia shook her head. "The king and queen need to stop taxing the kingdom so heavily," she said angrily. "Especially the peasants."

"What do they even use the money for?" Grover adds. "New paint for the ballroom?"

Percy agreed with them. Taxes in Olympia were so high, it was unheard of. That's the sole reason why half of the kingdom were so poor. But what else was there to do but keep on going? "There's nothing we can do about it," he said sadly, knowing it was true, "but keep on stealing."

His companions made disgruntled noises of agreement. Their anger was tangible and contagious. He couldn't let himself be affected by it. Not with what he needed to do. "Well," he said, keeping his voice light, "as much as I'd love to stay here and be angry with you guys, I have an errand to run. Be back in a few hours."

And with that, he left, yet again escaping the hostile and resentful aura that always seemed to find him no matter how far he runs.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

It came as a shock to Percy.

He had gotten into the hospital easily. He stole a male nurse's outfit and kept his head down as he walked through the halls. It was definitely easier to get around when no one knew what you looked like, Percy thought. So what if they knew his name? How was that going to be used to catch him? If they knew what he looked like, it'd be a problem, but they didn't, so why worry?

He kept a low profile as he walked. He didn't make eye contact with anyone. He didn't speak. He had stolen a few papers with what appeared to be notes on a patient the doctor was observing. He read through those, trying to look like he was engrossed in them. It worked.

He reviewed the steps to stealing, as he always did.

_Step one: take inventory. _

Check.

_Step two:find your target. Step three: knock him out and steal his clothes. _

Check. Check.

_Step four: get in and get o-_

Percy stopped short as he heard male and female voices float out of a room to his left. Slowly and as nonchalantly as possible, he moved towards it, listening to their words.

"What are we going to do?" the male asked. Percy thought it sounded like the doctor.

"I don't know," the female answered. Percy risked a peek inside and recognized the doctor, just as he predicted, and the young, female nurse he had smiled at the last time he was in here: a pretty brunette with blue eyes. "But that medicine is important. We have to get more, and soon."

Percy's heart skipped a beat. They couldn't possibly...no, it wasn't...

The doctor spoke up. "I don't know how long we can wait for a new shipment. Without that medicine, she could die. And what would her parents do to us?"

Percy figured they were talking about some rich aristocrat. They were the only ones who could afford medicine. But they said "her" as in one person. And there was only one kind of medicine that there was only one customer for. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he took off down the hall, ignoring the looks from everyone else and not caring that he was drawing attention to himself. He bolted down the stairs to the basement where the meds were kept, his heart beating uncontrollably. He was surprised that it hadn't jumped out of his chest yet. He arrived at the shelf that held Macy's medicine and his hands began shaking. His stomach dropped.

There were only three vials left. And if the conversation he had overheard was true, there wouldn't be anymore coming.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy burst in his mom's house, back in his clothes, the last three vials tucked safely into his boots. The rubbed against his legs as he ran, reminding him that they were his little sister's last bottles of life, unless he figured out a way to get her to a doctor. There had to be some way they could heal her. Some surgery or some other type of medicine. This couldn't be all there was. Maybe that hospital didn't have it, but another hospital might. Another doctor might be able to help.

The question was, though, how? How on earth could he afford to take Macy to a doctor? It's not like he could steal one. What he needed was a way to make money, and make it fast. Macy didn't have a lot of time. What could he do? He started listing off things he could try. He could rob the bank; but that was near impossible. The bank was guarded by dogs, and dogs was something Percy was unwilling to fight. Besides, he'd have to steal a butt-load of money, and he'd rather not steal a lot. He could maybe threaten a doctor, but threatening wasn't really his thing, unless it was absolutely necessary. Ransom was pretty effective, but it was too big a risk.

Suddenly, a plan, a dangerous plan, started formulating through his brain. It was risky and overwhelming to think about, but if he pulled it off perfectly, it might work.

He reached his family's house and ran up the steps and burst through the door. Everything appeared normal and it gave Percy an uneasy feeling. His whole world was falling apart, but it seemed so normal. Macy was playing with her doll on the floor of the living room and his mom was in the kitchen, as always. Paul wasn't there, probably at work.

Macy ran up to him once he came in and hugged his leg. "Pewcy!" she shrieked in delight. Despite their current situation, he smiled and picked her up, sweeping her up in a hug.

"Hey, Macers!" he said, pulling on one of her chocolate curls. "How are you?"

"Julie sick!" she exclaimed, as if her doll being sick was the worst thing that could possibly happen it her. It made Percy's heart ache.

He picked up the doll, Julie, out of Macy's hand and planted a kiss on her tiny head. "There," he said. "All better." He set her down to play with her now healed doll and walked into the kitchen, his happy mask he put on for Macy melting off to reveal his panic.

"What's wrong?" his mom asked, ringing her skirt nervously.

Percy didn't answer. He didn't know how. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he lose it and start crying. Instead, he pulled out the vials and set them on the table.

His mother eyed them suspiciously. Usually, she could read him like a book, but Percy was sure that she didn't know what was wrong with him now.

"Thank you," she said warily, picking them up and placing them neatly inside the cabinets.

"Those are the last ones," Percy blurted out, no longer able to contain it. Strangely, he didn't feel like crying anymore. His anguish was replaced by fire, burning deeply within him, being fueled by his desperation. "There isn't any medicine left."

His mom's hands stopped. Her whole body froze as Percy's words sunk in. Her back was to him so he couldn't see her face, but Percy imagined it was confused, if not crushed.

"What do you mean, these are the last vials?" she asked solemnly. "The medicine is gone?"

She turned to look at him and Percy was shocked. She looked like she had aged ten years in thirty seconds. He nodded and told her what he had overheard at the hospital. "There's not going to be anymore coming soon," he finished. "We have to get Macy to a doctor."

His mom shook her head and sat down at the table. Percy joined her. "Percy, Paul and I can't afford that. We can barely afford food."

"Mom, we've got to scrounge up the money in some way. Macy doesn't have much ti-"

"No, I mean we're broke, Percy," his mom interrupted him. "We don't have much money left."

Percy opened his mouth to reply and then closed it. What was there to say? Percy had seen what happened to families who had gone broke. It was never good. They either starved to death or were taken to prison because they can't pay their taxes. He didn't know what he would do if anything happened to his family. They were what he lived for.

"I'll find a way," he said angrily. "You guys will be okay."

His mom looked worried. "Percy, be c-"

"I'll be fine, Mom. I'll find a way to save Macy and get you out of poverty. I'll do it, Mom. I promise."

He didn't listen to his mom's reply. He ran out of the house and straight towards the woods.

His mind was made up. He knew what he had to do. He knew what he was sacrificing. But he also knew that it was the only way he could help his family in the short amount of time he had. He was willing to do anything, to sacrifice anything, in order to help them. And what he was planning to do would force him to sacrifice almost everything: his ability to go in and out of the kingdom, his frequent visits to his mom, Paul, and Macy, his slim chance at a normal life. But he was willing to do it.

He got to his shed in record time. Thalia and Grover were playing some sort of card game on the ground, but they abandoned it when they saw Percy's frantic expression.

"What happened?" Grover asked, right at Thalia said, "You got caught, didn't you?"

Percy shook his head. In all honesty, he would've rather gotten caught, but he didn't tell them that. Quickly, he gasped out what had happened.

They stared at him for what seemed like forever. "What are you gonna go?" Thalia asked quietly. She may be tough and strong, but mention Macy's name, and her hard exterior would dissolve.

"There's nothing he can do," Grover pointed out. "Is there?"

"Actually, there is," Percy replied. They both watched him intently while he continued. "Think, guys. What is the fastest and most efficient way to get money? Ransom, right? Now, who in Olympia could I kidnap that would for sure get me the most money?"

They both seem to understand. Grover gasped. Thalia's eyes widened.

Percy nodded. "That's right. The princess."

**And now we're moving into the plot! Next chapter, Percy and Annabeth should meet, I'm pretty sure. I'm excited! **

**But what did you guys think? Please review! Tell me how I could improve, what you liked, what you didn't like, anything! And follow and favorite! That would be good too.**

**"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." Luke 6:37 (NIV)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns all PJO Characters. **

Chapter Four

Annabeth

"_And then my soul saw you and it kind of went, 'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you.'"_

_(Unknown)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

For a princess who loved combat and sweating in the sun, Annabeth surprisingly liked balls.

She sat in front of the mirror on her vanity, studying herself. Piper was doing her hair, like she always did for balls and dances. Her makeup had already been done; she just wore some light powder to make her look paler and some red lipstick that, to Annabeth, looked like blood. She also had already put on her dress – a long white gown with golden embroidering and long, billowing sleeves. It was Annabeth's favorite ballgown simply because it was pretty and fancy, but didn't have a low neckline or a slit in the skirt. She hated wearing gowns like that. It made her feel like a prostitute.

Piper was doing a simple hairstyle, since Annabeth was being forced to wear her tiara. She was doing a low bun that brushed the back of her neck. Loose curls framed her face. Annabeth usually complimented Piper on her wonderful talent and made conversation, but her thoughts were too preoccupied by her mother's words two days before to even say anything.

_Many suitors will be there, so make sure that you look your best. You'll find your husband there, I'm sure._

Annabeth wasn't afraid that her mother was wrong. No, she was afraid that she was right and that she would meet her husband. She would never admit it, but Annabeth didn't want to commit to someone, especially someone she hated. Committing to someone meant that they were in charge of you. They would limit you to certain things and forbid you from doing things. Annabeth didn't like to be controlled; she was a free, defiant spirit that would be very hard to contain.

"You nervous?" Piper's voice pierces Annabeth's thoughts. She started to nod, but remembered that Piper was doing her hair, so she cleared her throat and replied, "Yes."

"Don't be," she reassured. "Just think of it as another ball. No one said you have to meet your husband here."

"Uh, I kinda do," Annabeth reminded her. "I've got a little less than a month until I have to be married or getting married. This is my last chance to meet all of the suitors before I have to decide."

As soon as the words left her mouth, a sickened feeling grew in Annabeth's stomach. She knew that it was true, but she had chosen to ignore it. She would tell herself that she still had time, that she didn't have to decide right now, and would ignore the pesky little voice in the back of her mind. But now there was no ignoring it. She had to decide tonight who she wanted to marry, who she would chose to reign beside her as king, and, most importantly, who she would commit her life to.

Suddenly, Annabeth felt like she was going to pass out.

"Piper," she murmured, swallowing nervously, "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," her friend stated firmly. "Any girl who can fight like you can is capable of going to a ball."

"I'm talking about choosing-"

"No," Piper interrupted, her tone stern. "No, Annabeth, you're just going to a ball."

At Piper's words, Annabeth looked her reflection in the eye and set her jaw and lifted her chin a bit. She could do this. She was Annabeth Chase, after all.

Five minutes later, Annabeth's hair was done. Piper went into the closet and came out seconds later with the crown, placing it neatly on Annabeth's head, careful not to mess up the hair style. The crown was beautiful, she had to admit, as much as she hated the thing. It was small and a sparkling silver. Diamonds twisted all around the band, shining in the light like no other diamond she had seen before. Annabeth might have liked it if it didn't pinch her head so badly.

"Look," Piper said soothingly, her gaze on Annabeth's reflection. "You're a princess. Act like one."

Annabeth smiled and stood up, wrapping her arms around her best friend in a hug. "Thanks," she muttered.

"No problem," Piper pulled away, grinning. "So, is there anything I can do for you while you're at the ball?"

Annabeth thought. "Well, you could walk me down there. I need a companion in case I somehow trip down the stairs and break both my legs."

"The horror," Piper teased.

"And then you could come back up here and reorganize my soaps in the bathroom. They're getting rather messy. And then you can try on my dresses once you're done with that. We're about the same size and I want to make sure that they all still fit."

Piper smiled at Annabeth. She knew the jobs were ones that were unnecessary – Annabeth's bathroom was always organized and her dresses all fit her perfectly – but she didn't want Piper to have to do those awful jobs around the castle.

"Yes, ma'am," Piper said and they walked out of the bedroom. The king and queen always met Annabeth at the doors leading out to the balcony overlooking the ballroom. They would be announced and walk in together, the king in the middle and the girls flanking him on either side. By the time Piper and Annabeth got there, both of her parents were already there, waiting on her.

"Annabeth," her mother said in her usual elegant and graceful tone that only a queen could have, "you look beautiful."

"As do you," she replied, smiling a little. Her mother, Queen Athene, always looked beautiful. Tonight, she was wearing a royal blue gown, lined with lace, and a low neckline that Annabeth despised on herself but worked on her mother. Her hair down, curled over her shoulders, and her crown, a golden one, was placed neatly upon her head. Her gray eyes sparkled and the blue in them was much more prominent, probably due to the blue dress she was wearing.

It seemed that her mother was only this proud of her whenever Annabeth dressed and acted like a princess. She knew her mother loved her, but sometimes she wished that they had a better relationship, where Annabeth felt comfortable enough to talk to her about anything. Now, Annabeth was nervous to even talk to her about having extra training sessions with Chiron.

Her father embraced her. He was in his usual military uniform, which is what he wore to all of their balls. His medals of honor hung proudly across his chest, letting his kingdom know how great and mighty he was. And he was great and mighty, Annabeth thought. Being a general in the army was a time-consuming job, but he still managed to find time to spend with his family – meaning, attending all meals and balls and occasionally stopping by the library and asking Annabeth how her studies and training were going.

"You do look beautiful," he whispered in her ear as he pulled away.

She smiled at him. "Thanks, Dad."

Her mother clapped her hands lightly to gain their attention. "Okay, they're about to announce us. Let's take our places."

Annabeth followed her orders and took her place on the left side of her father. Piper squeezed her arm, telling her silently that she's leaving and going back upstairs. Annabeth smiled at her before she walked away. And then the double doors open, revealing her to the crowd of dancing people.

The balcony they enter the room on isn't really a balcony. It's more of a platform with stairs surrounding it on all sides. All of her life, Annabeth entered parties such as this the same way. She could do it in her sleep. They pause on the platform for a five-count while the guests bow. Then they walk slowly down the steps while the guests continue whatever they were doing.

Annabeth always loved the feel of the balls. The beautiful music the orchestra played in the background, the light chatter of the men and women in the room, the playful squeals and screeches of children as they play in the corners of the room, the swishing of skirts and clack of heels on the tile floor. It all created a happy, care-free atmosphere.

She milled around aimlessly, purposefully avoiding her mother, who would surely introduce her to suitor after suitor and Annabeth wanted to enjoy the party for a little while before she was forced to flirt endlessly.

The crowd parted for her wherever she went. It was like everyone knew that this ball was indirectly arranged for her, so that she could find her king. She sighed inwardly. She couldn't wait until all this marriage business was over and she could carry on with her normal life.

Of course, she knew that she would never return to her normal life after she was married.

Her rumbling stomach directed her to the snack and drink table. She usually didn't eat at these balls, but she had foolishly forgotten to eat beforehand. She eyed the finger foods hungrily, and decided on a small turkey and cheese sandwich to nibble on. She didn't want to eat too much and throw it all up later when she was forced to dance song after song with suitor after suitor.

"Annabeth?" an incredulous voice called from behind her. She turned to find her good friend Silena Beauregard standing on the other side of the table.

"Silena!" Annabeth exclaimed, genuinely happy to see someone she was friends with at this party. Silena was a princess of a kingdom not far from Olympia, Hungaria, if she recalled correctly. She had sisters, but she was the oldest, meaning she had to get married before her eighteenth birthday just as Annabeth has to. She was a beautiful girl, with lush black hair that she wore braided down her back and beautiful blue eyes that shone all the time, so she didn't have a problem finding a husband. Tonight, she wore a red dress with sleeves reaching to her hands and a slit revealing a golden skirt underneath. Annabeth was surprised to see a slight bump in her stomach, due to a developing baby.

"Oh my gods!" she exclaimed. "You're pregnant!"

Silena smiled and came around the table to Annabeth. They embraced before Silena answered. "Yes. Two months."

Annabeth smiled at her. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you."

Silena rested her hand on her swollen stomach lovingly. She had a glow about her, a glow Annabeth had only seen displayed when a woman was pregnant. "Yes, well, I'm excited, but also very nervous. I'm not sure I'm ready to be a mother yet."

Annabeth rested a hand on her friend's shoulder. They were a couple years apart, but Silena never acted as Annabeth's senior. "You''ll do amazing, Silena. I know you will."

Silena smiled at her graciously before saying, "Well, enough about me. What about you? You're getting married soon! That's exciting!"

Annabeth felt her expression darken. "Well, I haven't really decided on someone yet. I'm supposed to chose someone tonight. Or at least have someone in mind."

Silena gazed at her sympathetically and opened her mouth to say something, but just then, her husband, Charles Beckendorf appeared at his wife's side. Annabeth noticed how his hand automatically wrapped wound her waist and his other hand drifted to her stomach as if out of habit.

Annabeth curtsied, remembering that he was a king and her friend was now a queen. Just like Annabeth will be in a month. "Your Majesty," she said as she rose up.

He laughed. "Oh, please, Annabeth, don't do that. It makes me feel old."

Silena laughed and Annabeth joined in. She had met the man once and had immediately liked him from the moment he insisted that she call him Beckendorf.

"Okay, _Beckendorf_," she teased and he laughed.

"Nice to see you again," he said. "Is it alright if I steal Silena from you for a dance. I'll only get so many more dances in before she gets too big to walk around."

Silena blushed and elbowed her husband. For a second, Annabeth felt a twitch of envy, wishing she could find someone she could act like that with. But from what she'd seen so far, she wasn't sure there's any more princes left like Beckendorf.

She shook her head. "No. I don't mind."

Beckendorf shot her a smile. "Perfect. Thank you, Annabeth." He grabbed Silena's hand a dragged her towards the dance floor, leaving Annabeth alone.

She turned away immediately after they ran off, not wanting to watch them. She shouldn't feel jealous of her friend's good fortune. She should be trying to find her own Beckendorf. He had to be out there somewhere.

"Annabeth!" her mother's graceful voice called to her. She groaned quietly to herself and turned around, plastering a fake smile on her face for her mother's benefit. Immediately, that smile faltered.

Next to her mother was a prince, obviously, from the way he was dressed in pressed black slacks and a traditional white shirt and matching jacket. He was handsome, with black hair that looked like he tried to tame it but couldn't. He had tan skin, which confused Annabeth. Shouldn't gentlemen and princes be pale, since they don't have to work out in the sun? His eyes were a sea-green, swirling and sparkling with mischief. His face was chiseled and he smiled at her, a dopey grin that made Annabeth want to smile back.

But that's not what made Annabeth freeze up. No, it was the shock that went through her, an electrical current between this prince and herself, one that charged her up and melted her at the same time. She had never felt something like that before, not with anyone. She wondered if it meant something, if there was an invisible string attacked to both of them, pulling them together, like they were always meant to be.

She wondered if Piper's talk about soul mates and finding "the one" was really true.

"Annabeth," Queen Athena said, pulling Annabeth out of the trance both she and this mysterious stranger had been under. "This is Prince William of Atlantis. William, this is my daughter, Princess Annabeth."

Annabeth curtsied. "Your Majesty."

"Your Highness," Prince William said in a low, enigmatic voice that matched his mysterious appearance. It sent a chill through Annabeth. She craved hearing it again.

"Well, I will leave you two to get acquainted," Athene said with a sparkling glint in her eyes, like she knew exactly what was happening to Annabeth and was happy about it. She wandered off into the crowd of the ballroom, smiling at her guests and her chin held high.

At first, the two stood in an awkward silence. Annabeth looked down at the hem of her dress, studying it intensely. William was staring at her and a fire spread across her cheeks, burning brighter with every second that passed. She'd never felt this way with any of her suitors before. What was happening to her?

"Do you want to dance?" he asked her in that low, dark voice again. She gazed up at his green eyes and tried not to get lost in them. She smiled.

"I'd love to," she replied and took his hand as he dragged her off to the dance floor.

The orchestra was playing one of Annabeth's favorite songs. She didn't know the name of it (she didn't know the names of most songs she heard) and she didn't care. Was knowing the title of the melody going to change her opinion of it? She didn't think so.

William placed his hand firmly on her waist and and clasped her hand with the other. They began twirling around in circles and moving across the floor with all the other couples, almost as if they were a well-oiled machine. Annabeth's skirts twisted around her and brushed up against William's legs, though from his smile, Annabeth didn't think he cared. They were a respectful distance apart and in the space between them, silence reigned.

Desperate to break it, Annabeth spoke up. "So, my mother said you're the prince of Atlantis?"

William grinned and nodded. "The one and only."

"Huh. I never knew that Atlantis had a prince."

"Yeah, uh, I never really wanted a lot of attention. I tried to stay under the radar and stuff." Annabeth heard something in his tone. Something that sounded like panic, as if he was coming up with something on the spot. Confused, she looked up at him, but his eyes looked the same, like she hadn't heard anything. She shook off the feeling. Maybe she _hadn't_ heard anything.

"How old are you?" she asked him. He looked young; younger than all of her other suitors.

"Twenty," he replied. "Well, nineteen, actually. My birthday is in August, in a couple months."

Annabeth was shocked to hear that. Her mother had found her a suitor that was only two years older than her. That was unheard of. Almost all of Annabeth's suitors were at least ten to fifteen years her senior, some a bit younger. That was the common thing in Annabeth's world. Fourteen-year-old girls would marry thirty-year-old men. To them, Annabeth was lucky to marry later and to someone closer her age.

"Really," she said, trying not to show her surprise. "I'm seventeen."

"I know," he replied and grinned. "The fact that everyone is making a big deal out of getting you married before your eighteenth birthday kind of helps me remember your age."

Annabeth laughed. "I suppose that would help," she agreed and smiled up at him.

He gazed down on her and said, "You're very beautiful." Then he shut his lips tight, like he hadn't meant to say that and was silently scolding himself.

Annabeth blushed deeply, and gazed down at her feet again. "Thank you," she murmured, so quietly he probably couldn't hear her. Men had called her beautiful before, many times, but not once had it actually felt real until now.

"I could say the same about you," she replied, looking up with a winning smile.

"That I'm beautiful?" he asked, mocking confusion.

"No," she giggled. "That you're handsome." In a bold movement, she took a step closer to him, so that they were chest-to-chest while dancing. She was suddenly struck by how tall he was compared to her. Her face was even with his collarbone. His arm slid completely around Annabeth's waist and she swore he could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

They were quiet as they danced around the room. Their surroundings fell away until it was just the two of them, dancing. They both blushed when their eyes met. Annabeth felt like her body was on fire everywhere he touched her. She reveled in that feeling, not wanting it to end. For the first time in forever, she actually felt like a princess, like in her fairy tales that would dance until midnight and got happy endings. She was so happy that her mother had chosen someone she liked and that she wanted to-

Wait. This man, Prince William, was someone her mother had picked out. Probably knowing that Annabeth would fall for him almost immediately, and keeping that in mind as she introduced the two. This would be an arranged marriage and Annabeth didn't want that. She was stubborn. She was rebellious. And she didn't want to be tamed. Therefore, she could not like this new suitor, simply because her mother chose him. She couldn't like the same man her mother did.

As this ran through her head, their surroundings painted themselves back. But this time, she could hear the chatter of the guests above the music. She could feel the stares on both her and William as they danced, could hear the whispers and gossip that would most likely be in the newspapers tomorrow. The room suddenly became crowded and she was hot and sweaty from dancing for so long.

She didn't want to like this prince, but she definitely didn't want him to like her. And the only way to ensure that was by showing him that she would not be an easy wife to control.

She leaned up and whispered in his ear, "Come on. Let's get out of here. I want to show you something."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth walked towards the arena next to the palace, freshly dressed in tight slacks, a tank top, and boots. She had kept her hair in, trusting Piper's careful hands to have pinned it back securely enough while she fought.

William was already in the arena, waiting for her. He hadn't changed, just took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The sight of him and his toned arms made Annabeth's heart flutter, but she ignored it. She was here for a reason, not to flirt with a suitor.

When she walked in, her knife already strapped to her waist, William stood up straighter and smiled at her. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hi," she said quietly and then cut right to the chase. "Do you know how to fight?"

He snorted. "Yeah. Almost every man does. It's, like, a rite of passage."

Annabeth glared at him. "Well, then, if it's so easy, come and fight me."

She took her place at the center of the arena, drew her knife, and waited for him to come at her. She expected him to protest, saying he can't fight a girl and all, but to her surprise, he just shrugged and moved over towards her, a sword from the rack of weapons in his hand.

They began circling one another. Annabeth narrowed her eyes and calculated his stance. He seemed to be doing the same with her. He kept his left side farther from her, angling his right side towards her. That must mean his left side is his weaker side. Quicker than lightning, she took a step forward and slashed her sword towards his left side. He parried and pushed her blade back towards her before stabbing at her gut. She sidestepped and, just like that, the fight had begun.

She quickly darted around him and and swung at his head. He ducked and turned, sweeping her legs out from underneath her. She fell hard on her side, but got up not even a second later, remembering the first rule of combat Chiron had ever taught her: falling to the ground gives your opponent direct access to your head.

William smirked at her and she growled as she thrust at his gut, a sloppy move, but she was too angry to do much else. No one had ever made her fall down before. William dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, coming up slamming the flat of his blade into her side. She huffed in annoyance and fought harder, a whirlwind of thrusts and slashes and jabs. But William managed to escape each one, and before she knew it, Annabeth was pinned up against the wall of the arena.

"You're pretty good," William muttered, his face right near hers, "but I've been training my whole life."

Annabeth glared at him. "So have I."

She slammed the butt of her knife's hilt into his back as hard as she could and stepped on his toe at the same time. He cried out and pulled back. Annabeth took this opportunity to whack him on the side of the face with the flat of her blade. He cried out again and clutched his cheek just as Annabeth kneed him in the gut, then flew around behind him and elbowed him where she slammed him with the butt of her knife. When he flew around to face her, she dropped her knife and grabbed his arm, judo-flipping him over her shoulder.

He moaned as he laid on the ground, much to Annabeth's amusement. There. That should show him that she would be hard to deal with.

"Done yet?" she taunted from above him. He opened his eyes and grinned at her before kicking her in the legs and sending her flying on top of him.

"Now I am," he replied.

Annabeth glared at him and muttered, "Idiot."

It was then that she noticed how close they were. She was on top of him, her heart beating against his, her breaths mixing with his. Involuntarily, she leaned closer until their faces were inches apart. His eyes glanced at her lips and she swallowed nervously, praying to whatever gods were out there that her breath didn't reek. She was at war with herself, reminding herself that this was a man her parents picked out, that her parents wanted her to fall for, but she didn't care, didn't care, didn't care.

Part of her was relieved, and part of her was disappointed too, when William pulled back and grinned at her. "Go again?"

**Okay, so just that we're all on the same page, William is Percy in disguise. I'm pretty sure everyone could tell, but just in case some of you guys couldn't, William is Percy. **

**Man, I'm doing really good updating this story! For my other stories, you get lucky if I update once a month. I haven't updated one of them in, like, six months. Oops. :/  
**

**Anyway, review! Please! Can we get to 25 reviews? Please? Thanks!**

**"I am the Good Shepherd; I know My sheep and My sheep know Me - just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father - and I lay down My life for the sheep." John 10:14,15**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

Chapter Five

Percy

"_The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly." _

_(The Great Gatsby)_

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_Percy ran as fast as he could through the town. He could hear the footsteps of stampeding guards behind him. Did they seem closer than before? He didn't have to strain to hear them anymore. They were definitely getting closer. _

_He couldn't let them catch him. If they caught him, he would have failed. And failure wasn't an option. _

_The sack of money bounced reassuringly against his waist. He reveled in the sound of the gold coins clashing. He had what he wanted; now he just had to deliver it. Sweat coated his hairline, falling in beads down his forehead. His lungs yearned for air and he gasped, trying to deliver it to them. His whole body ached and his muscles called out for a break, just a second, but that's one second Percy didn't have. He had to keep pressing on. He couldn't afford to give up. _

_The guards were gaining quickly. His whole being protested, but he pressed harder, forcing his legs to move faster, telling his lungs to suck it up. _

_Finally, he was there. He burst in through his mother's front door and found everything where it normally was, as if everything was okay, though it most certainly wasn't. His mom was sitting on the couch next to Paul and Macy played on the floor with her doll. When she saw him, Macy looked up, her eyes filling with joy. _

"_Pewcy!" she shrieked and ran towards him, only to fall backwards, her warm and vibrant brown eyes filling up with tears of terror._

"_Macers?" Percy called out timidly. No. This couldn't be happening. Not when he was so close to succeeding. _

_She opened her mouth and a scream of ultimate terror ripped from her throat, chilling Percy to the bone. She fell to the ground, still screaming. _

_Percy looked up at his parents, who just stared at Macy sadly, as if they had shut themselves off to any feelings, awaiting the inevitable. He screamed at them, ran to them and hit them, trying to get them to see what was going on and do something about it. The money still bounced at his waist and he ignored it. It wouldn't do any good if they didn't save the toddler right now. _

_Percy turned back to Macy and reeled back, trying not to vomit. His tears stopped, as did his screams. He stared at the girl before him, his own feelings shutting off just as his parents' did and he wondered if it was such a bad thing, not feeling. The guards came in at one point, grabbing Percy and handcuffing him, taking the money he had worked so hard to forget, but he didn't care, couldn't even scrounge up the slightest bit of emotion, no matter how hard he tried. The guards ignored the girl on the ground as they pushed Percy out of the house and towards the prison. Well, Percy didn't really know if it was a girl anymore. _

_In the place of Macy was a withered corpse with bits of wispy white hair still attached to its skull, his little sister's screams still echoing around the house. _

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy woke up panting. The image of Macy's corpse on the ground flashed in his mind, refusing to dissipate. His hands shook as he ran a hand through his hair, slick with sweat. He reassured himself that it was just a dream. His plan was perfect. Him and Thalia and Grover had talked it over for hours, going through every possible scenario that could happen and at least two ways to resolve them. His plan was fool-proof and he would save Macy, even if he had to die in the process.

He leaned back in the bed, resting his head against the soft pillow, reveling in the silk sheets that surrounded him...

Wait a second. Silk?

Percy shot up and looked around. He was in a palace bedroom, in a bed five times the size of his little cot in the woods. In fact, the whole room was five times the size of his whole shed. A lounging area was on his right side, complete with a desk with papers and pencils and pens and a small bookshelf. On it were more books than Percy had owned in his whole life.

On his left was a vanity-type thing, probably for a guest who was a girl, a door leading to the closet, and a door leading outside. Across from him was another door that he assumed lead to a bathroom.

For a moment, Percy was confused as to where he was and why he was here. But a second later, memories of last night came crashing down on him, like the waves of the ocean. He remembered the dancing bodies of people, the lightness in the air, the feeling of winning the princess's affection. He remembered fighting with her and getting her angry until she eventually fought back hard enough to beat him.

She was going to be a fun hostage.

The plan Grover and Thalia helped him come up with was simple. He would dress up as a suitor, which would grant him immediate access to the princess. Then, when he found the opportunity, he would kidnap her and leave the note they had written before behind for the king and queen to find. He had to do the job as soon as possible, though, before everyone figured out that he wasn't actually the prince of Atlantis. That Atlantis didn't actually have a prince at all.

He would have to kidnap her soon. Tonight, if possible.

A person walked into the room, interrupting Percy's thoughts. He looked about Percy's age and appeared to be a servant. He wondered what a servant was doing here so early in the morning. Or maybe it wasn't that early and Percy had just slept late. He glanced to his right, where glass French doors stood, opening up to a balcony. The sky was an orange-ish blue with a few pinks painted in. Percy estimated that it was probably a few hours after the sunrise. He definitely didn't wake up late.

"Excuse me?" he asked the servant, fixing him with a look Percy hoped conveyed, _What are you doing in here?_

"My name is Chris Rodriguez," the servant announced. "I'm here to help you get ready for breakfast."

Percy thought that was stupid. He was perfectly capable of getting dressed and downstairs for breakfast safely. He didn't understand why he needed someone to help him. But, he was in the palace. It was a whole other world here. Maybe people here _weren't _capable of getting ready on their own. You never know.

He nodded absently and dragged himself out of the bed, finding that he already missed the soft silk sheets. If all went according to plan, he would be kidnapping his future queen tonight and wasn't able to sleep in something that soft ever again.

Chris drew Percy a warm bath, which Percy settled easily down into while his servant pulled clothes out of his closet. Thalia had been able to pull a few strings (and by pulling strings, Percy meant that she had used her knife on a poor gentleman to slice him in some choice places to get his permission to steal all his clothes) to get the closet full of clothing. Percy knew he would probably end up wearing none but two outfits, but if he was going to pose as a prince, he had to look the part.

Chris came back into the bathroom and Percy got up, quickly wrapping the towel around himself while Chris dutifully turned his back. Within minutes, Percy was dressed with his hair slicked back like a real gentleman should have it. He accepted Chris's help with everything, simply because it was his job and, well, you only live once, right?

"Am I ready?" he asked Chris as he slid on his jacket, now freshly pressed with creases and everything. In his opinion, he looked even better than he had last night.

Chris nodded in reply and opened the door as I strutted out confidently.

Percy was the last one to arrive, which he wasn't surprised about. He was famous as a kid for being late to everything. A few suitors were at the long banquet table, mostly on the side that Annabeth was sitting on, boasting confidently about how many battles they'd been in and how popular they were in their countries and just being boys. The women who had stayed the night – queens and princesses and duchesses – sat at the other end of the table, near Queen Athene and her husband, King Fredrick, chatting quietly amongst themselves, their backs as straight and stiff as a board.

Percy scanned the table, spotting Annabeth almost immediately. It was hard not to find her, admittedly. She was that gorgeous. That morning, she wore a more understated gown than she had last night; a floor-length white, chiffon dress, the torso decorated with some silver jewels. The dress didn't have any sleeves, so Annabeth's muscled and tan arms showed and Percy caught many men sneaking glances at them with a look in their eyes, as if they wished for nothing more than to run their hands over them.

Percy saw her as nothing more than his last hope to save his sister.

Annabeth was looking quite strained as one of the princes from last night talked to her, using big arm gestures and facial expressions. Percy recognized the guy: Prince Peter of Serielles, a cocky man who was absolutely love-struck over Princess Annabeth, despite being fifteen years her senior. He had talked to him last night in his attempt to look normal, as if he belonged there. Percy didn't like him at all, so when Annabeth locked eyes with him and shot him a look of desperation, he decided to intervene.

"Good morning," he greeted once he made his way over there. There wasn't an open seat anywhere near where he was, so he stood above Peter, trying to decide what to do with his hands.

Annabeth smiled at him. "Good morning."

Percy flashed to the memories from last night he had tried not to think about; flirting during their dance, Annabeth pressed against his chest for the last half of the song, their almost-kiss during their sparring match. None of that was supposed to happen, but it had anyway. It wasn't like he was attracted to her – he hated her guts, actually – but it would be hard for anybody to resist kissing her when she was on top of them, or wrapping their arm tighter around her waist when she stepped closer to them. She had a compelling aura, a charisma that draws someone in until their drowning and it's too late to back out. She was dangerous, whether she knew it or not, and not just because she knew how to fight, but because she could make someone's heart beat faster with just a flash of a smile. Percy knew this and had mentally prepared himself for it last night, building up his willpower and barriers. He would not get drawn in by her again. He hated her.

Even if he was drawn in, just one thought of his little sister would set him right.

Peter sneered at Percy, annoyed that he was interrupting their very one-sided conversation. "Excuse me," he snapped, "but we were discussing something."

"Well, it seemed to me that _you _were discussing something," Percy pointed out, "while Annabeth here were the poor ears that had to listen."

Peter turned so red, Percy had to hold back a laugh. Annabeth shot him a grateful look. "Well, Prince William-" Peter said his name like it was poison "-it doesn't seem like there's a chair anywhere nearby here, so why don't you go and find you and your smart mouth a seat?"

Percy shrugged and shot Annabeth a smile before turning to walk away. He was stopped, however, by a small, slender hand latching onto his arm. He turned back around to find Annabeth holding him back.

"Do you want to spar again today?" she asked in her sweet, melodic voice that was like acid in Percy's ears. He hated this girl, hated her for living a life of luxury while his friends and family died everyday in their homes, leaving their loved ones behind to deal with the pain. While his sister laid asleep in the kingdom, slowly dying from some brain disease that no one was doing anything about. No, Percy hated this girl in front of him so much, that he began picturing her as a demon, her beauty only a mask of the horror underneath that would eventually boil up and bubble over.

But he had to earn her trust if he was to kidnap her. So he replied, "I'd love to."

He went and sat down, just as the servants started bringing out steaming hot plates of eggs and bacon and muffins and sausage and basically any other delicacy that could ever be eaten for breakfast. He stuffed himself with food, all the while watching Annabeth out of the corner of his eye. He reviewed the steps to stealing in his head, replacing step three (knock him out and steal his clothes) with a new step.

_Step three: earn her trust._

Annabeth glanced up and met his eyes, her blonde curls, which she wore down, bouncing with every movement. Their eyes met and, just like last night, an electric shock went through him, something he assumed was due to his immense hatred towards the girl that coursed through his veins, that could never be replaced by anything. Annabeth blushed and looked back down at her plate.

Percy snorted. This was going to be easier than he originally thought.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy loved the darkness. Darkness had been his companion for many years. It was the ultimate disguise, Percy's go-to if he didn't have a disguise good enough to get by unnoticed. It shrouded him in invisibility, engulfed him in their shadows, assisted him in his crimes.

Now, darkness was the key necessity to Percy's plan. He plastered himself against the wall next to Annabeth's bedroom door, his heart pounding in his chest. He was dressed in all black, and, courtesy of Thalia, had gotten his hands on a black mask that covered everything except for his mouth, nose, and eyes. Riptide was sheathed, resting against his leg. His whole body was tense, waiting for the moment when he would attack.

His plan was so simple, it was hard. He would wait in Annabeth's bedroom for her to come back from the walk Peter had asked her to go on. When she opened the door, he would fly from his position against the wall, knock her out, leave the note on her bed, and escape as quickly and quietly as possible. If all went well, no one would notice that she was missing until morning, and by then, they'd be long gone.

He heard voices down the hall. Percy's hand immediately went to Riptide, his fingers wrapping around the hilt, preparing to strike at any moment. He couldn't make out who they were or what they were discussing, but Percy knew it was Annabeth, knew it like he knew the difference between up and down. It was like a radar had been set up in his mind, the moment he decided to kidnap her, and went off every time Annabeth was nearby.

A laugh. Peter's, of course. Percy knew first hand that Annabeth hated Peter. She would never laugh at something he said.

They were closer. He could make out voices now, and some of the words. They seemed to be discussing the art of combat and how must one successfully behead another. A rather gruesome conversation for the first date, Percy thought, but he wasn't really surprised. Annabeth was a strange girl and the only thing Peter seemed to be able to talk about was killing others.

Closer and closer, they came. With every footstep, Percy's heart beat faster. His mind clouded with thoughts of doubt. Should he be doing this? Stealing medicine and food was one thing, but kidnapping a person was stepping over the line. This wasn't who he was. He wasn't a person who took people from their own families while his was at home, slowly dying.

The thought of his family jarred the second thoughts right out of him. He was helping his family. He didn't care what he did as long as it was for them. He would murder for them.

They were right in front of the door now. Percy stopped breathing, stopped fingering his sword, stopped everything as he heard Annabeth's and Peter's goodbyes and she opened the door.

He waited until she shut the door to pounce. He jumped from his spot in the shadows, drawing his sword and pressing it to her neck, all in the matter of three seconds. Annabeth didn't even have time to shriek. She jumped and tried to pull away, but Percy had a strong grip on her waist and he wrenched her closer to him. He could feel her heart pounding all the way down in her stomach. The fear she was emanating was almost tangible.

"You scream and I kill you," Percy whispered in her ear. She nodded in agreement, her lips trembling. Percy began feeling a significant amount of guilt, but he pushed it away with a mental image of Macy, his mom, Paul, all the people he was doing this for.

Slowly and carefully, he lowered the sword from her neck and sheathed it, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around her waist. The moment he let go of his sword, Annabeth elbowed him in the gut, which caused him to loosen his grip on her. She took advantage of this and tore away from him reaching for the knife laying on her bed. Percy recognized it as the one she had used to fight with earlier today, her most prized possession.

He grabbed for the rag in his pocket, wet with chloroform, and ran for her, caging her from behind with his arms and shoving the rag beneath her nose. Immediately, the chloroform did its work and Annabeth's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed backwards against Percy. He supported her, cursing under his breath. She weighed more than she looked.

The moon reflected off of Annabeth's face as he took her in his arms, her head lolling against his chest. He placed the note he had written on her bed and ran towards the balcony, jumping off the side with Annabeth asleep in his arms.

**And there you go! Annabeth has been officially kidnapped. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out before I go back to school. Thank God for three day weekends. **

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I was not expecting that much feedback and all of it was positive! Thank you guys so much, and also, thanks to everyone who followed and favorited! You're all amazing! Review, please!**

**"And He has given us this command: anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister." 1 John 4:21  
**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer" All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

Chapter Six

Annabeth

"_Strong women don't play victim, don't make themselves look pitiful, and don't point fingers. They stand and they deal."_

_(Mandy Hale)_

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Annabeth woke up with a splitting headache and a grainy taste in her mouth. She was laying on the ground, staring up but not able to focus on what she saw. Her eyes were coated with a sheet of water, making everything shimmer. The ground beneath her felt cold and wet, like the ground in the arena after it rains. For a moment, that's where Annabeth thought she was. She had tripped and fallen in the arena, probably knocked herself out. It sounded like something she would do. Her head ached, as did her body, so she closed her eyes again.

Suddenly, the memories came falling down on her, hard and fast, like freezing rain and hail during a winter storm. She remembered walking into her room and being grabbed, a sword held up against her throat, fighting and trying to reach the knife on her bed, being caught again. She remembered feeling so hopelessly helpless, knowing there was no way out, no help coming, right as she fell unconscious.

Her eyes shot open, and this time, she was able to see clearly. The ceiling above her was made out of moldy wood and dripped with water. She glanced around without sitting up and saw that the walls were made of the same material. The floor below her wasn't cobblestone, like the arena was; it was dirt, wet from the water falling from above. Disgust swelled up in Annabeth. She was laying on _mud._

She tried to sit up, but her hands stayed glued together in front of her. She fell back against the dirt with a gasp. Her hands had been tied together. Of course. She had been kidnapped. Whoever had kidnapped her would have bound her hands together. She moved her legs around a bit. Her feet had been bound together too.

A panicked feeling of containment shot through Annabeth like a bullet. She inhaled heavily and twisted around to her stomach, trying to push herself onto her hands and knees. Her hair fell in her face, the curls limp and lifeless. Her dress twisted around her. She wondered how long she had been here.

Now on her hands and knees, she looked around. She could see more than just the floor and walls. A cot was pushed against the wall, a thin blanket and pillow spread out on top of it. Next to the bed were stacks of wooden crates, probably filled with clothes and food. Two mats were on the floor next to the bed, thin blankets on top of them also. Annabeth wondered how many people stayed here, or who stayed here.

Her vision flashed.

_Bodies filled the room. They were piled up in stacks, blood pooling beneath each pile. Each body was slick with blood, and mutilated, multiple stab wounds sprinkled across the stomachs and the chests of each one like medals of honor on a soldier. The air was tainted with the sweet smell of blood. _

_Annabeth appeared in the center of the room, dressed in a man's outfit, the closely-packed bodies suffocating her. She glanced down and noticed the dagger in her hand, shining with wet, dripping blood._

Annabeth gasped, her heart beating a-mile-a-minute. The image of the ripped up bodies flashed in her mind and she vomited on the ground beneath her, tears mixing up with the puke. A sob escaped her as a horrible realization settled in her mind.

She was sick. She'd been sick all of her life. She had a rare brain disease, one no one had seen before she'd been born, or if anyone had, nobody had said anything. She had almost died when she was only just an infant, constantly screaming, her heart beating too wildly than she could possibly stand as a baby. Finally, after so many tests, the doctors proclaimed that she had a tumor in her brain that was causing her to see her worst fears, a simple explanation of why she wouldn't stop screaming. If she didn't get medicine for it, then she would die literally from fear. But the royal doctors were miracle workers and made a certain kind of medicine that would prevent the tumor from growing. If she took a certain amount everyday, then she would be perfectly fine.

But now she had gotten herself kidnapped. If she wasn't home, if she was in the middle of nowhere with a murderous psychopath, how could she take her medicine? If she didn't take her medicine, she'd die within time.

The thought of her body stacked up with the ones she had murdered in her vision made her vomit more.

"Are you sick because of the smell?" a deep male voice said mockingly from behind her. She gagged and tried to catch her breath, her chest aching because she recognized the voice. But that couldn't be him. It couldn't. "Sorry, but not everyone can afford to make their hallways smell like peppermint."

She whipped her head around to find Prince William sneering down at her. He was almost unrecognizable, now that he was in a commoner's outfit and didn't have his hair slicked back, or at least combed. It stuck up at odd angles and a hint of stubble grew along his jawline. But she knew it was him like she knew she was a princess. It was second nature.

Anger blinded her. Had _he _kidnapped her? It had been too dark to see who it was that had taken her in her bedroom, but she knew that the arms were familiar, as was his scent. Part of her knew that it was him, it just hadn't processed in her brain. Or maybe she just hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. But William had kidnapped her. The one suitor that she had actually liked ended up being worse than the rest. And gods, it wasn't fair.

It wasn't _fair. _

She narrowed her eyes at William. Her insides were boiling, about to explode. She wanted to hurt him. She jumped up and threw herself towards him, not sure what she would do when she tackled him, but her bound hands and feet stopped her. She landed hard on the dirt floor, wincing at the sound of popping bones, and wondering why on earth she was sad that her dress got dirty.

William laughed. That made her even more angry. She got back up, resting back on her heels, and said in a low, dangerous tone, "William."

He nodded at her and took a seat on the bed. Her eyes followed every move he made. "Annabeth," he replied in that same mysterious tone he had used back at the palace.

"I trusted you," she cried, her tone getting louder and more angrier with every syllable. "I trusted you and you betrayed me. How could you?" Her heart beat faster as she got angrier. William just stared. "I thought you were better than those other pompous jerks who called themselves princes and kings and dukes. Turns out, you're worse than them, _William_." She spit out his name like it was poison.

"Percy," he said.

Annabeth gazed at him. "What?"

"Percy," he repeated. "My name isn't William. It's Percy Jackson. And I'm not a prince, I'm a commoner."

Annabeth stared at him. His real name echoed around in her head. Percy. Percy Jackson. This small piece of information was so unimportant in the grand scheme of things, so random and sudden, that it shut Annabeth up. She couldn't believe that the man she had met at the castle was a completely different person – a completely made-up person – than the one she was facing now.

Percy continued speaking. "This is going to be your new home for a while," he said, gesturing widely with his arms around the small room. "You get the food that I give you and you don't say a word unless I ask you something. Understand?"

She nodded solemnly. He tossed her a loaf of bread.

"Where did you get this?" she asked quietly, even though she wasn't supposed to speak. Annabeth never was one for following rules anyway.

Percy looked at her, like he was shocked that she would have the courage to defy him. "Did you not hear what I just said?" he asked. "And I stole it."

Annabeth looked at the bread. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it, nudging the bread away from her. Shaking her head, she said, "I refuse to eat anything that was stolen from my people."

Percy stared at her like she just told him she was going to dress up as a boy and sail out to sea on a pirate's ship. Finally, he replied, "Fine," and picked up the bread, tearing off a piece and shoving it into his mouth. Annabeth gazed at him in disgust.

"So how long will I be here?" she asked, trying not to vomit again from just watching him it. Honestly, it was like a pig trying to engulf a whale in one bite.

"You really don't understand the term 'don't say a word', do you?" he replied, clearly annoyed.

"How long will I be here?"

He sighed. "I don't know," he replied. "I guess as long as it takes for your parents to give me the money I asked for."

"You're holding me for _ransom_?" she cried. He shrugged and continued to stuff his face with bread. She looked down at the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. All of her life, she had been held up above others. She had been of royalty, the future ruler of Olympia. But now, now she was being held captive in exchange for money. She was being treated like a prisoner, like her being a princess didn't even mean a thing. Like she didn't matter.

"How much?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. "How much are you holding me for?"

"Hundred thousand gold pieces," he replied nonchalantly.

Annabeth's eyes bugged out of her head. That kind of money was unheard of in Olympia. Even the royal family didn't have that much money. "W-we don't have that," she said in a small, timid voice. "That would cause Olympia to go bankrupt."

Percy chuckled. "Yeah. Right. I think that from the way you live, your parents can afford it."

Annabeth opened her mouth to argue, but shut it immediately. What was there to say? This man that had kidnapped her wouldn't listen to a thing she said. He held himself higher than her, and Annabeth didn't know how to show him that he was wrong. So she just exhaled and said, "Wow. Kidnapping the princess and holding her for ransom. That's really low, even for you."

Percy's green eyes lit up with furious hate and he jumped up and stormed over to her, leaning down and getting in her face. She drew in a breath and leaned back.

"You don't know me," Percy spit out in a tone that conveyed barely controlled anger. "You don't know what I've been through or what I'm going through. So excuse me when I say that you aren't exactly qualified to tell me what's low an what's not."

Then he stormed out, leaving Annabeth alone in the room, her initial liking of him immediately turning to a burning, passionate hate.

**Wow. Poor Annabeth. Poor Percy. **

**So how did you guys like this chapter? I wrote it pretty quickly. I finished The Fault In Our Stars earlier today, and my feels were everywhere, so I decided to write some fanfiction. Hope it turned out alright! And I completely made up the disease. I didn't want to do research and find and actual disease that would fit the plot. Plus, this is a sort of fantasy-type story, so I think it's okay if there's a made up disease in here. **

**Review!**

**"For in Him all things were created: things in Heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created though Him and for Him." Colossians 1:16**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan. **

Chapter Seven

Percy

"_The world tends toward chaos, you know...I'm just helping it along."_

_("The Beginning of Everything" by Robyn Schneider)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

She was insufferable. She was infuriating. Percy didn't know what he was thinking when he kidnapped her. Her words kept on echoing in his mind.

_That's really low, even for you._

Percy spit on the ground. She had no right to tell him that what he was doing was low. His sister was dying. His family was broke. His whole world was falling apart while she sat around at the palace doing what? Arguing with her parents about marriage.

Percy leaned against a tree. He was a good thirty minutes away from the shed. Thirty minutes away from Annabeth and her big gray eyes that made Percy question whether he was doing the right thing or not.

Was he doing the right thing? That was the question on his mind. Was it right to take someone away from their family as if they were nothing more than the money they were being held captive for? Percy hated Annabeth – there was no denying that, but no one deserved to be taken from the only world they've ever known in exchange for money. Does a good, pure motive justify the crime committed? Percy was scared of the answer.

And another thing Annabeth had said bugged Percy. She had told him that the money he had asked for, the hundred thousand gold pieces, would cause Olympia to go bankrupt. He had only asked for that much to ensure that his family would have enough money for the years to come, as well as for doctor's visits and medicine. But if demanding for that much money meant that he would tear other families apart because of bankruptcy, was it worth it?

Yes, Percy assured himself. Yes, it was worth it. His family was worth everything.

A picture of Annabeth flashed through his mind. Not one of her in the shed, battered and broken, but one of her at the palace, the night of the ball, laughing and smiling. Happy. Maybe her family was worth everything to her too.

Percy glared at the ground and took off running, not sure where he was going. He just needed to get away from the princess, had to get away or he would explode into tiny pieces of fear and determination. He ran until the ground beneath him fell away and he was flying in the clouds, high above his problems.

He arrived at the back of his mom's house. She lived against the tree line, and although Percy would never admit it, he sometimes climbed up a tree and watched his family through the window, wishing he could be apart of it. That night, they were all gathered together in the living room. His mom and Paul sat next to each other on the couch, Paul eating his dinner and his mom patching up a hole in one of his spare shirts. Macy sat on the ground, playing with her doll, as always. It was the only toy she owned, Percy was pretty sure.

They looked so happy and content. Percy wanted nothing more than to be there with them. He hardly ever let himself break down, even if no one was there. Crying would do nothing to help the situation. But at that moment, Percy let a tear slide down his cheek. He wished he hadn't chosen the life of a criminal. Sure, it was fun and exciting, but he'd never get to know quiet nights spent inside with his family. He'd never get to experience walking around the town and causing trouble with Macy. He'd never get to threaten her first boyfriend, or sneak a bite of stew from behind his mom's back, never get to go to work with Paul and provide for them like he should. He never got to before, and he'd especially never get to now that he had kidnapped the princess.

Macy opened her mouth and Percy heard a faint scream coming from inside. He watched his mom and step dad hurry from their places at the couch and sit on either side of the toddler. His mom hugged Macy to her chest and Paul stroked her hair and whispered soothing words that Percy couldn't hear from outside.

His heart hardened from watching them. Whether he regretted it or not, this was the life he had chosen and it wasn't going to get any better. He had to do what he had already started. He'd do it for Macy.

Quietly, he slithered out of the tree and ran back to the shed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth was already asleep when Percy got back two hours later. He had taken his sweet time, leisurely strolling through the woods and managed to turn and hour's walk into a two hour's one.

Annabeth was curled up right where he'd left her: in the middle of the room. Her pile of puke was still next to her, though she'd wisely scooted over a couple feet to escape the stench. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically and her eyelashes fluttered. Her cheeks were wet, which told Percy she had probably cried herself to sleep.

He quietly walked around her, collapsing into his own bed. Thalia and Grover had told him they'd stay with Thalia's brother in town so that they wouldn't make any trouble with the princess. Percy strongly suspected they just didn't want to get involved in case his plan didn't work. He thought their friendship was stronger than that, though when your life is on the line, friendship kind of flew through the window.

Percy watched Annabeth as she slept. Not in a creepy, stalker-ish way, he just wanted to study what she looked like when no one was looking.

She looked innocent. If anything, she looked innocent. A small smile teased her lips, which Percy didn't understand. Shouldn't he plague her nightmares as the man who kidnapped her? Why was she having good dreams?

He let out a small, frustrated sigh and rolled over, facing the wall. He pushed all thoughts of the girl on the ground next to him out of his head, and let the sound of the wind through the trees lull him to sleep.

It felt like only five seconds had passed when Percy was violently awoken by pounding on the door. With cat-like reflexes, he jumped out of bed and ran to the door just as the person on the other side yelled, "Wake up, Perce! I wanna see our princess!"

Percy rolled his eyes and opened the door to find Thalia's electric blue eyes staring him down. She stormed past him and immediately started studying Annabeth, who had been woken up by the pounding on the door also, just not as quickly. She stayed sitting on the ground, unable to get up due to her bound hands and feet and studied Thalia with her calculating gray eyes.

"How did you do it?" Thalia asked Percy.

"Where's Grover?" He ignored Thalia's question.

"Over at my place still, snoring loud enough to wake up Atlantis," a voice said and Percy whirled around to find Thalia's brother, Jason, and his best friend, Leo.

"Dude!" Percy exclaimed as him and Jason hugged. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

Sure, Percy passed between the two boys' houses to get in and out of the kingdom, but he rarely actually saw the guys. The last time he had talked to Jason had been a couple of months ago, even longer since he'd talked to Leo.

"Thalia told us about what happened," Jason explained when Percy asked why they were here. "We couldn't believe it."

"Didn't know Percy Jackson was capable of doing something this big," Leo added, "and could succeed in doing it."

Percy glared at the Latino boy and shoved him. Leo and Jason were both younger than him by only a year, but Jason acted older than him and Leo acted years younger.

"Excuse me," Thalia interjected. "Let me repeat my question: how did you do it?"

Percy started explaining how he had sneaked into her room and taken her once she walked in. Annabeth glowered at him from the ground, but he ignored her.

"Wow," Jason said once Percy was done. "Do you think the guards will find us?"

"Of course they will," Annabeth said, just as Percy said, "Of course they won't."

"They might," Jason argued. "We are pretty close to the kingdom."

Percy scoffed. "Please. They can't possibly think that a girl like her could survive for long in the woods. She's too weak and fragile."

"Right here, you know," Annabeth piped up, annoyed. Percy shot her a glare that he hoped conveyed, _shut up. _

Leo, who was crouched on the ground next to her, wrapped an arm around her and backed her up. "Yeah! She has ears that can hear."

Annabeth elbowed him and he toppled over in pain.

Thalia grinned at Percy, who had his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "I like her," she stated, gesturing to Annabeth. "Pretty and fierce."

Percy rolled his eyes. In a lame attempt to change the subject – he wasn't fond of his friends' immediate liking to his enemy – he asked, "So how are things in the kingdom?"

The three others were quiet. Percy got an uneasy feeling in his stomach. What could be so bad that they were wary to tell him?

"The guards are searching everywhere," Jason finally spoke up. "They're raiding houses and basements, tearing people out of their homes. Everyone is a suspect. And they haven't stopped since they discovered that she was missing. Soon they're going to start searching the woods."

"Wait," Annabeth said. "Exactly how long ago was I kidnapped?"

"Counting today," Thalia answered, "three days."

Annabeth shut her mouth and stared at the ground as the information that she had been unconscious for the majority of those days sunk in.

"They're going to find her eventually if you keep her in the shack," Jason continued.

"Well, what are you suggesting?" Percy asked angrily. "That we move her? Where?"

"Anywhere but here," Jason said. "Maybe even another kingdom. If you two stay here, then the guards are going to find her and your going to be arrested and put in prison."

Annabeth harrumphed, "Good."

Percy turned and shot his best death glare at her. He was getting sick and tired of her comments. She needed to learn to keep her mouth closed. Isn't that what he told her last night? He wasn't sure how much more he could take of her smart mouth.

"Shut up, Wise Girl," he muttered. The nickname surprised him. He hadn't meant to call her that. It was kind of a lame insult, anyway.

Annabeth, the infuriating girl that she was, raised an eyebrow. "Fine, Seaweed Brain," she shot back, her gray eyes penetrating him. Her gaze told him that he could kidnap her, but she wouldn't put up with his rules.

Thalia looked between the two and gave Percy a questioning look. He ignored it. "You could go to the cabin," she suggested.

Percy's eyes widened. "No," he said immediately. "No. I'm not taking her there. That's nearly a two weeks walk from here. Too far."

Of course, that wasn't the real reason he didn't want to go. That cabin was built by his dad – his real dad – for his mom when they were Percy's age. He had been there a few times, when he was younger and his mom dared to sneak out of the kingdom and travel there with him. The cabin was full of memories not only for his mom, but for him. Memories of a father he never knew. Just the thought of taking a girl he hated there was too much. It would be like showing her a part of him that he'd rather keep locked up and buried.

"Percy," Thalia said in a gentle voice, "that's why it's such a good spot. It's so out of the way, out in the middle of nowhere. It's perfect. The palace guards don't even know there's anything out there."

Percy knew she was right, even though he hated to admit it. It was a perfect spot. And as much as he hated going over there with the memories tucked into every nook and cranny, he would rather go there than risk getting caught. If he got caught, he couldn't help his family, and family came first.

"Fine," he gave in. He looked over at Annabeth. She was still in her dress, which was now ripped and snagged at the hem. She couldn't travel in that without it falling apart at some point, and he didn't want to travel with a girl in just her birthday suit.

"Get her some clothes," he instructed Thalia, nodding his head towards Annabeth. She walked over to the crates stacked in the corner and pulled out a pair of slacks and a shirt. Then she crouched down and cut apart the binds around Annabeth's hands and feet.

As she helped Annabeth to her feet, Thalia glanced back at the three boys. "Get out," she demanded. "I know you guys wouldn't mind, but I don't think Annabeth wants to strip down in front of you."

Percy's, along with Jason's and Leo's, cheeks turned red and they filed out of the shack.

"So how are you going to get supplies and stuff while traveling?" Jason asked. "It's not like you can carry two weeks worth of food on your backs."

Percy thought about this while leaning against a tree. Food would be easy. He could hunt animals and there were many edible plants along the way. Water would be harder. There were ponds and streams here and there, but he knew from traveling there before that they would have to stray a bit from the water sources in order to get to the cabin. And what were they going to do for matches for fire or extra clothes?

"One of us could ride down and meet you guys halfway," Leo suggested. "They could bring food and water and anything else you guys might need."

Percy and Jason both stared at Leo. This was the first good idea he had come up with ever. Usually, his ideas were outrageous: running down the streets naked while screaming random things at the top of their lungs as a distraction so that one of them could steal something, or letting a tiger loose in the streets so they could rob the bank and give the poor people their money back (though where they would find a tiger was a mystery to them all).

"Wow, Leo," Jason said.

"That was actually...intelligent," Percy agreed.

Leo shrugged. "My madness is genius," he replied. "You guys just never realized it until now."

Jason clapped his hand on Leo's shoulder. "And you just ruined it, buddy," he said sadly. "Sorry."

Percy laughed at Leo's pouting face and Jason joined him. They only stopped when Annabeth and Thalia came out of the shack.

Turned out, Annabeth was Thalia's exact size. The slacks hugged Annabeth tightly, showing off her curves and muscles. The white shirt was loose and partially tucked into the pants, the black tank top showing underneath the shirt. Her hair was still down and falling over her shoulders. Her face was pale and her hands seemed to shake slightly, probably from lack of nutrition, but she still seemed so strong, like she could go months without eating and still have the strength to stand.

Percy realized he was staring and scowled. Jason and Leo were openly staring and he didn't blame them. She was a princess after all. Even if she was annoying and had a smart mouth, she was still pretty. It was, like, in the princess handbook.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, just noticing the sheathed knife hanging loosely off her hip. He didn't remember her grabbing the knife off her bed when he kidnapped her.

"I gave it to her," Thalia answered. "Figured if a girl was going into the wilderness with a guy who hated her, she probably needed a weapon to defend herself."

Thalia stared at both of them. Since when did Thalia offer help to someone who had grown up with everything just a snap of her fingers away? And why did she give his _prisoner_ a knife? Didn't she realize that Annabeth could use that to hurt him and escape?

Annabeth shot him a sweet smile. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to attack you. Unlike yourself, I'm not fond of hurting people for no apparent reason."

Thalia disguised her laughter as coughing. When Percy turned to glare at her, she mouthed, _good luck._

Anger boiled inside Percy. He would not be a laughing stock. This girl had no right to make fun of him. He wanted to set her straight, but knew it would do no good. Instead, he said, "Annabeth, get back inside the shack. Leo, go watch her."

Leo, who seemed overly excited about the job he was given, hurried over and wrapped an arm around Annabeth's shoulders and guided her back inside. She shot Percy disgusted look before ducking inside.

Percy turned to Thalia and Jason. "I'm going to go see my Macy," he told him and darted off into the trees, wondering how him and Annabeth would get through the next two weeks without killing each other.

He sure hoped the ransom would get paid soon.

**I don't know about this chapter, guys. It was kind of a filler chapter. The next one they start their journey, so that should be exciting. But anyway, what did you guys think? Can I get to 55 reviews? I know that's kind of a lot for one chapter, but you guys are amazing! Maybe, if I get enough feedback, I'll try to update again tomorrow. Maybe. **

**"But if anyone obeys His word, love for God is made complete in them. This is how we know who we are in Him: whoever claims to live in Him must live as Jesus did." 1 John 2:5,6**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

Chapter Eight

Annabeth

"_When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending."_

_(Thigh Nhat Hanh)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Leo was restless. He wouldn't stop moving. While Annabeth put away her crown and dress in a brown sack that contained a spare outfit from Thalia, he sat on the edge of Percy's bed, watching her intently. His fingers fiddled together and his right knee wouldn't stop bouncing.

Overall, he was a nice guy. He hit on her a lot, but many guys did back home, so she knew how to deal with flirting. He talked a lot, cracking jokes that he thought were funny, but really weren't, but Annabeth didn't mind. It was nice to hear something other than Percy's voice yelling at her.

"So," Leo asked, "have you chosen a husband yet?"

Annabeth glanced back at him and found him wiggling his eyebrows. She shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "Not yet."

"Well, too bad it's only princes you can marry," he said, "because I would totally volunteer to be your husband. Do you think if I dressed up like a prince like Percy did, your parents would be fooled and you could marry me?"

Annabeth swallowed. She didn't want to tell him that she had turned down countless suitors just like him. She thought that wouldn't boost his self-confidence.

She heard Leo get up off of the bed and walk over to her. "I'm kind of irresistible," he teased and wrapped an arm around Annabeth's waist.

_She was in the palace chapel, walking down the aisle. Her dress was the envy of every girl in the kingdom; long and silk, intricate beading decorating the bodice. A lace veil covered her face. Her blonde curls fell down her back, bouncing with every step she took. _

_Her heart was pounding and her hands shook. She wanted to run back. She didn't want to reach the alter and give her life to this man. She glanced at her father next to her, trying to send a message through her eyes that she didn't want to marry, couldn't marry, wouldn't marry. But he stared straight ahead, a radiant smile on his face. _

_She glanced ahead at the alter. And she locked eyes with the sixty-year-old man who's antiquated eyes held a hungry glow as they skimmed her up and down. _

Annabeth exhaled sharply and ripped herself away from Leo. Plastering herself against the wall, she sank to the ground and put her head between her knees. She focused on breathing, pushing every other thought out the window.

In.

Out.

In.

"Annabeth?" Leo called out warily. "You okay?"

Out.

"I'm fine," she whimpered. She was thankful when she didn't hear footsteps. She didn't think she could be near him. She didn't think she could be near any man right now. She was glad Percy was gone.

In.

She was scared of being taken advantage of, of being used. She was scared of some of the motives of these men who wanted to marry her. That was the only explanation for what she saw.

Out.

What a stupid fear to have. So many girls younger than her married men decades older than them. They lived the rest of their lives with these men. She didn't have a right to be afraid of it when her people were facing it everyday.

In.

But it was one of her fears. And she needed to deal with it.

Out.

"Sorry," she apologized to Leo, pulling her head out of her knees. "I didn't mean to...freak out."

"What happened?" he asked, ignoring her apology. He sat back on the bed, distancing himself from Annabeth. Annabeth was thankful for that.

She gazed at Leo. His funny, joking exterior had deteriorated. Now, he just looked concerned and curious. Annabeth had never told anyone about her disease. A select few people knew about it: her parents, Piper, and, eventually, her future husband. She didn't want the kingdom finding out and questioning her power to rule. But Leo had seen the effects of the sickness. He would question and wonder about it, probably for the rest of his life. And for the first time ever, Annabeth wanted to tell someone what was wrong with her. She wanted someone to know that her life wasn't as perfect as everyone thought it was. That even blessed people have trials and problems. No one has it easy.

"I'm sick," she told him, keeping her voice low just in case Thalia and Jason heard her from outside. Percy had gone somewhere, Annabeth knew from hearing him run off. She didn't know where and she didn't care to know.

"You're sick," Leo repeated, like he couldn't quite grasp this new fact. "With what?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I don't know. Nobody knows. It's a rare disease. I have a tumor in my brain that makes me see things that scare me. It happens randomly, and I can't stop it without medicine."

She didn't say anything about another problem, one that happened long before she was kidnapped. The hospital that provided her medicine had run out. They were getting more, but they didn't know how long it would take. She'd had a stash of it at the hospital that would last her about a month, but after that was gone, she'd be on her own until another shipment came in, and who knew how long that would take?

But now, she didn't even have that small stash. She didn't have anything to help. She didn't know how long she'd be able to keep this from Percy. She didn't know what he'd do when he found out.

A sudden fear pierced Annabeth's chest. "You can't tell him," she insisted. "You can't tell Percy. Actually, you can't tell anyone."

Leo got up off of the bed and made his way over to Annabeth, who was still sitting against the wall. He crouched down in front of her and held out his pinky. "I pinky promise," he said, grinning.

Annabeth reached out and wrapped her pinky around his. And she smiled for the first time since she'd been kidnapped.

Percy chose that moment to come stomping into the shack. His eyes were red, probably from crying, and Annabeth wondered why. She didn't know he was capable of feeling anything other than pleasure from hurting her. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but she knew that probably wasn't the smartest choice. She hadn't even been here a full day, but she knew better than to call Percy out on his showing vulnerability.

"We're leaving now," he informed her. "Grab your stuff."

He walked back outside to talk to Thalia and Jason. Annabeth scrambled up and grabbed her sack that contained her things. Her hands shook. She was about to go off into the woods to a cabin weeks away from her home with a man who hated her and she hated back. She fingered the small dagger Thalia gave her, wondering if she'd get desperate enough to use it.

Her and Leo walked outside, Leo keeping a respective distance from Annabeth, which she was thankful for. Her heart was still racing from her vision earlier. Right as she got out there, Percy shoved a bag against her chest. With an _oomph_, she dropped it, and he shot her a glare.

"Careful," he chastised. "That has your supplies for the next week. If you damage anything in there, you're not getting a replacement from me."

Annabeth glared back and shouldered the bag, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a problem, though that was a lie. The thing weighed at least fifteen pounds. But she didn't want to look weak in front of him.

Percy smirked at her. He saw right through her.

"Annabeth?" Thalia called. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Annabeth glanced back at her. Despite the situation, Annabeth liked Thalia. She was nice compared to her cousin. And she'd given Annabeth the dagger to defend herself in case Percy went off on her. So Annabeth walked over to her without hesitation.

"Yeah?" she asked. They were a few feet away from the boys, behind some trees. Annabeth could feel Percy's piercing stare behind her and she had to suppress a shiver.

"Can you promise me something?" Thalia asked. She had a worried look on her face and she kept looking back at Percy. Annabeth wondered why.

"Um," Annabeth said, not sure how to answer. She liked Thalia, but she didn't know if she trusted her enough to promise her something.

"Listen," Thalia gripped her arms and her blue eyes were electrifying. "Percy's had a hard life. He's going through some tough things right now. Just, don't judge him too harshly, okay? He has his reasons for what he's doing. Go easy on him."

Annabeth glanced back at Percy. Their eyes locked, green on gray, and Annabeth felt that same spark she felt the first night. She wondered if she had mistaken what she felt that night for something else. Maybe instead of feeling love, like she thought she had, his hate for her had radiated off of him and into her and that spark had been a premonition for what was to come.

"I'll try," she told Thalia, "but he is my captor."

Thalia bit her lip and looked back at Percy. "Okay," she said finally. "As long as you try."

They walked back to the boys. Percy's eyes never left Annabeth. His stare was fierce and a bit unnerving. Annabeth didn't meet his gaze; instead, she stared at the ground.

"Be careful, man," Jason warned Percy. "You never know what kind of creatures are out there."

"But I'm sure they all fear the great Percy Jackson," Leo teased. Then he turned serious. "Watch out for Annabeth also."

Annabeth's breath caught. No. He promised that he wouldn't tell anyone. Surely, Leo wouldn't go back on his promise, right?

Percy shot him a confused look. "Sure," he drawled. "Okay."

"Wouldn't want our princess getting hurt!" Leo saved, laughing. Percy just shook his head while Annabeth's heart slowed down to normal speed. Quickly, Thalia, Jason, and Leo said goodbye and shot off into the trees. Annabeth's heart sank while she watched them go. Those three being here made it less awkward to be around Percy.

"You better be able to keep up with me," Percy informed her, beginning to walk in the opposite direction than the others took, "because I'm not slowing down for you."

Annabeth exhaled, wondering what she could have possibly done to deserve this. Then she began to follow Percy into the mass of trees.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth would rather be tied up in the hut. The sun had beat down on them all day, unforgiving and uncaring, until Annabeth's back was drenched in sweat. Then, when the sun finally went down, the temperature went down with it.

Annabeth suppressed a shiver and leaned a bit closer to the campfire Percy had made. Her chain rustled in the leaves on the ground. Percy had chained her to a tree so she wouldn't run away in the middle of the night. She wanted to laugh when he told her that. The last thing she wanted to do was run off into the dark woods in the middle of the night.

They were eating a small meal of stale veggies and lukewarm water. Percy glared at the ground the entire time, so Annabeth used this time to study him. Thalia's words had bothered her all day. She kept wondering what had happened to Percy that left him like this. She didn't know that something could have that effect on someone. But her sickness had affected her, she supposed. She wondered if Percy had some sort of disease. Maybe he had a tumor in his brain also that caused him to be immune to other people's feelings.

Immediately, she felt bad for thinking that. She shouldn't be so quick to judge. Percy could have something really serious, and here she was making jokes about it. Maybe he didn't even have a disease. Maybe he'd had a traumatic experience in his past that caused him to act this way. In all honesty, she had no idea.

The silence was deafening. She felt suffocated. She was tired of being trapped in her own thoughts and needed to talk.

"So," she started, "do you have a family back home?"

Percy was silent, but Annabeth didn't miss the way he tensed up.

"Any siblings or anything?" she continued. His tense shoulders were making her nervous. Had she hit a sore spot? Suddenly, fear coursed through her, and she prayed that she wouldn't have see any vision or image of her fears right then.

"Why do you care?" Percy grumbled. "What could you possibly gain from that information?"

His tone rose with every word. Annabeth swallowed and answered, "I was just trying to be friendly."

That seemed to make Percy lose it. He stood up and marched over to her. She clasped her small plate of food as tightly as she could and kept her head down as he said in a barely controlled voice, "You and I will _never _be friends. We will never get along and there's no point in trying. We're from two different worlds, you and me. You're a spoiled brat who's gotten everything she's ever wanted while I've had to work for _every single freaking thing _I have. So please, for the both of us, stop trying, because you're the last person I would ever want to be friends with."

Annabeth stared at her feet, utterly shocked that he would even think something like that. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want to be friends either, she just wanted to make the best of the situation they were in. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming at him that she might have a lot of things, but the one thing she wants, she can't get. She could never be healed from her disease. It was a part of her now, and if you took that away, you'd take part of her, and she hated it.

But she didn't say any of that. Instead, she looked him right in the eye and said as calmly as she could, "I hope they catch you. And when they catch you, I hope they kill you."

**Oh. My. Gosh. You guys are amazing! I got way more feedback than I thought! Like, I was literally squealing and jumping around on my bed. I was so excited. **

**Um, I apologize if this chapter isn't as good as my others. I'm a little scatter-brained today. But I'd still appreciate favorites, follows, and reviews! **

**Next update won't come as quickly as these past ones have. I have to go back to school tomorrow, which completely stinks. The earliest I can update will probably be Tuesday or Wednesday, and the latest, probably next weekend. *sighs* Darn it. I really like writing this, I just don't have a lot of time during the week. **

**"But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful." Luke 35, 36**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

Chapter Nine

Percy

"_Something very beautiful happens to people when their world has fallen apart: a humility, a nobility, a higher intelligence emerges at just the point when our knees hit the floor."_

_(Marianne Williamson)_

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy dreamed he was at his mom's house.

He was standing at the door. Macy was playing on the ground of the living room. She used her fingers to brush through her doll's blonde hair. His mom and Paul didn't seem to be anywhere in the house. It was just him and Macy.

"Hey, Macers," he greeted her. She looked up and squealed in delight, like she always does when Percy's with her. A warm feeling filled up in him. His favorite feeling in the world was being loved and wanted, and nobody made him feel loved as much as Macy did.

He bent down and opened his arms for her to run into. She jumped up, but a second later, backed away. Terror was clear in her eyes. She opened her mouth to scream and a green mist came out instead of noise, like a snake slithering through the air. It was like her soul was coursing out of her mouth, her whole being.

Then it stopped and Macy fell back to the ground, lifeless, and Percy woke with a jump.

Sunlight filtered through the trees. He was already sweating, his blanket sticking to him. He pushed it off of him and sat up to take in his surroundings. The fire he had built last night sat smoldering a few feet away from him. The sun wasn't far up in the sky, so Percy figured it wasn't too late in the day. That was good. They could get a jump start on the day's trek.

He looked across the ashes of the fire and saw Annabeth where he left her before he fell asleep. She was awake also, leaning against the tree trunk that Percy had chained her to. He was pretty proud when he thought of the old chain in his shed. That thing had been lying in there for forever, without a use.

She was crying. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. Percy felt a stab of guilt. Guilt for this girl who, in reality, had done nothing wrong. He remembered yelling at her the night before and how she basically told him that she wanted him to die. He had never felt a hate so strong than the one that had radiated off of her. He felt bad for causing her so much pain.

No. He shook off the guilty feeling that was draping over him. What he had told her last night was true. They really were from separate worlds. He could never get along with someone who was even the tiniest bit spoiled and she was the most spoiled person he knew. She was just a silly princess who couldn't even carry the backpack he had given her. He smirked when he remembered her dropping it when he threw it at her.

Percy got up and made his way over to Annabeth to unchain her. She looked up when she saw him approaching and quickly wiped away her tears. She didn't say anything as he reached down and undid the shackles on her wrists with the key he kept in his boots.

Her hands shook, which made the guilt come back to Percy. He reached his hand out to grab her wrist and it brushed Annabeth's thigh. She let out a tiny gasp that Percy almost didn't hear and pulled her legs tighter underneath her. When Percy looked up, he thought he saw fear in her eyes. But that couldn't be right. He had just brushed her thigh. What was the harm in that? Yet that fear in her gray eyes had been real terror.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, surprising himself. Since when did he _apologize _to his captive?

Annabeth seemed just as surprised as he was. She looked up at him with wide eyes, but didn't say anything. He continued, "I'm sorry for yelling at you last night. It was wrong and I shouldn't have done it. I'm really sorry."

Annabeth stared at him. Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy from crying. She was so delicate. He couldn't believe he had actually told her all the things he had without breaking down and apologizing. His mom had taught him to treat ladies better than that. But he guessed if he hated someone as much as he hated her, his mom's life lessons flew away in the wind.

Then Annabeth spoke. "Well, I'm not," she stated defiantly. "I'm not sorry for what I said. You know, Thalia warned me to be easy on you. She said you've had a tough life and that I shouldn't be so quick to judge. I tried. I tried to be friendly and nice, despite the fact that you've kidnapped me. And you're probably going to kill me for saying this, but I think you're just a big coward. A coward who's selfish enough to tear one person away from her family and her life so that you can provide for yours. Someone who's willing to do to someone else what poverty has done to them. You're a big, fat, selfish coward who probably doesn't even have a heart. And I hate you."

Percy felt like he'd been slapped. He stared openly with his jaw hanging at her, but Annabeth just crossed her arms and stared right back. How did she find out about his family? Thalia hopefully hadn't told her, but he had seen them talking before they left yesterday. And the way he had tensed up and blown up at her when she asked was probably a dead giveaway. The one question that was circling through his head though was why on earth he had thought about her fragility just seconds ago. This girl wasn't weak. She didn't need him to go easy on her.

She had made him angry. Angry beyond recognition. And he was about to prove her wrong.

Percy grabbed the front of Annabeth's shirt and drew her to her feet. She glared at him, trying to look tough and menacing, which was funny since Percy was a foot taller and much larger. He reeled his hand back and slapped her in blind anger.

She didn't even whimper. Instead, she laughed and said, "Point proven."

What did it take to break this girl? He found himself wishing he was dealing with a horse instead of a princess; at least he knew how to break a horse. He had done it a thousand times. A girl, though...not so much. He pushed his hand back to slap her again.

Annabeth's eyes widened. Terror filled them to where her gray eyes looked almost black. Her tan face paled to the point where she looked almost dead, and she cried out, frightened. Percy let go of her and she backed away, pressing herself up against the tree.

Then, all fear was gone. Her eyes went back to their normal gray and she breathed heavily, as if she had run straight through the distance they had crossed yesterday. They stared at each other. For some reason, the way that she had acted just then was familiar. He just couldn't place his finger on where he had seen it before.

"We should probably start moving," he said, deciding to ignore Annabeth's actions. Hopefully, they wouldn't happen again. He turned around and grabbed his pack, stuffing everything he had used back into it, and continuing in the direction they had gone yesterday.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The rest of the day was uneventful. Annabeth didn't try to make conversation, which Percy was thankful for. He didn't know if he could talk, even if he wanted to. His thoughts were on Macy. Another day had passed. He wondered if they had run out of meds yet. He prayed that they hadn't. At the rate they were going, Macy would have to survive two weeks, however long it took for the king and queen to pay the money, and then the two weeks back. Everything was looking down, but Percy had to be optimistic. Macy was a trooper. She would survive. And besides, he wasn't sure how long it would take to die from whatever Macy had. Surely it would take a while, since she was just dealing with her fears. But could she get scared enough that her heart stops? She was only three.

All of these thoughts ran through Percy's head as he and Annabeth ate their dinner. Thankfully, Annabeth didn't bring up his family again. He didn't want a repeat of the night before.

The bread was stale and so was the water, but Percy ate it like it was a feast at the palace. He had grown accustomed to the gross food over the years. Annabeth, however picked at it.

"You gonna eat that?" he asked her, nodding toward her slice of bread. She glanced down at it and blinked, like she had just noticed that it was there, and shook her head. Percy got up and walked around their small campfire, pouring Annabeth's food onto his plate (Percy had decided to pack the plates to make everything seem classier and less...barbarian.). Then he went and sat back down, scarfing down the food. Annabeth watched, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Percy glanced up at her. The scene from this morning flashed through his mind. He had tried to forget about it all day long. He still didn't know where he had seen those actions, or who it reminded him of. It bugged him, this not knowing. He felt like he should, that the answer was right there in front of him but he was too blind to see it.

Annabeth caught him staring and he looked down. His cheeks were red, but it was too dark for her to tell, thank goodness.

"I'm gonna, um, go to sleep," Annabeth said, getting up and moving over to the tree Percy had chained her to. She looked shaky while she walked, like her legs would give out at any minute and she'd collapse to the ground.

Percy shrugged and turned his back to her. He reached for his own backpack, pulling out his blanket and stuffing the now empty plate in it.

A girl's scream echoed through the trees and into the night sky. Percy jumped to his feet and whirled around, wielding Riptide just in case there was any dangerous creature lurking in the woods around them.

Instead, he found Annabeth backing towards him slowly, her hands shaking. Her chain slithered like a snake on the ground as she moved. Percy ran over to her just as she tripped and fell towards the fire.

He caught her waist just before she landed in the campfire. He pulled her away and she fell against him and curled up against his chest. He scanned all around them, looking for signs of any threat: a bear, wolf, coyote, or bandit. He didn't find anything.

What had caused her to scream like that?

He looked down at Annabeth, who was gripping the front of his shirt so tightly, one would have thought she was being dragged into the ground and was trying to pull herself up. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, falling from terrified eyes that, again, were more black than gray. Then she gasped and the tears stopped falling. She quickly let go of Percy and pushed herself away from him.

He stared. The same thing that had happened this morning had happened again. It was like she had been under a trance, and whatever she was seeing scared her to death. It was almost as if she was seeing her worst fears.

_It was almost as if she was seeing her worst fears._

All Percy could do was watch Annabeth in horror as the pieces finally fit in place in his mind. Annabeth was acting exactly like Macy did whenever she was hit with one of her crazy mind attacks. Could it be possible that Annabeth had the same sickness as Macy? From what he had gained at the hospital, only one other person had it, a rich person. He'd always assumed it was some aristocrat, but he'd never thought it was possible that the princess could have it. How could he possibly be that unlucky?

In the meantime, Annabeth was on her hands and knees next to the fire, panting like a dog. Her arms shook and she turned to glare at Percy. He would have been taken aback by the venom in one single glare, but he was too shocked to feel affected by it. "This is your fault," she sneered. "It's getting worse, much worse and I'm going to die and it's your fault!"

That jarred Percy. "Y-you have that disease," he stammered.

She stared at him, the venom in her glare dissipated. "How do you know about that?" she demanded.

"I-" Percy stopped himself. Annabeth was the other person who needed the medicine from the hospital, he knew. She was the one who's parents would be furious if they couldn't provide her medicine. She was inexplicably the reason they hospital even had the medicine. He didn't want to accept it, even though he knew it was true. He had tortured the girl who was the sole reason his little sister was alive. The guilt that had draped over him that morning began eating him alive.

"I've heard about it," he answered, deciding not to tell her that his little sister had it.

Her eyes grew wide. "The kingdom knows?" she asked, her voice shaking. "They know that I have it?"

"No!" Percy assured her. "No, I mean, I've heard about it from books and stuff."

He knew it was a lame excuse – he'd never gone to school before – but it seemed to make Annabeth feel better. She got off of her hands and knees and sat with her legs crossed in front of him. Her breathing had slowed down, but Percy could still hear the shake in it.

"How does it work?" he asked. He couldn't help himself. He had to know.

Annabeth sighed. "It's a tumor. In my brain." She continued, explaining how it causes her to see her worst fears. With every word, Percy's stomach sank more and more. _Macy. _That's all that went through his head. Macy had all of this going on inside of her, and he hadn't known how bad it was until now. Without the medicine, her tumor would just keep growing until eventually, she'd die.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, once she was done talking. "I didn't know."

Annabeth snorted and looked down at her lap. "Yeah," she muttered. "And I would have liked to keep it that way."

"Annabeth, I'm serious," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Whatever."

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes until Annabeth said that she was going back to sleep. "Here," he said, throwing her the blanket that he usually used. "You can use this tonight."

Annabeth looked down at it, like she thought it was another vision that would disappear in an instant. Then she took it in her hands and said quietly in reply, "Thank you."

It was as Percy was falling asleep that the full extent of the situation really hit him. Annabeth had Macy's disease. And, if what he knew was correct, if she didn't take her medicine, she would get worse until, finally, she died. Just like Macy would.

By kidnapping Princess Annabeth, Percy could have just signed her death warrant.

**Well, I updated a lot quicker than expected. Way to go, Aria! Hope you guys enjoyed it. There was a tad bit of Percabeth in here. There should be more from now on. I am so excited. **

**Review! Follow! Favorite! **

**"This is how we know that we live in Him and He in us: He has given us His Spirit. And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world if anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in them and they in God." 1 John 4:13-15**


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